


The Chronicles of SnailHaven

by MajesticVeggies



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Drama, Gen, Humor, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Fiction, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 32,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajesticVeggies/pseuds/MajesticVeggies
Summary: bitchy snails bitch at each other and try to destroy each other's lives.Here's a list of things to look forward to:- A war between the Christians and those who practice yoga- A non-profit that was never supposed to exist- A convention dedicated to the wonders of granola- A corpse gets shouted at- A Jesus paradeIntrigued? I certainly hope so.
Kudos: 8





	1. Susan and the Argument at the Yurt

Susan was a garden snail. She was content with her life. Most of the other snails kind of hated her, though. Susan didn’t care that she was not well liked. No, she hated the other snails as well. She was rude, she was _condescending,_ and she _liked_ it _._ Susan was what we call the town bitch. And oh, she _was_ a bitch. 

To get a sense of Susan’s bitchiness, she once served Chick-fil-a at a charity event for the LGBTQ community. People thought she was trying to be nice for once. Once they got to know her better, though, they realized that _nothing_ she did was nice. Another time, Susan handed out anti-vax pamphlets at an autism awareness event. A couple minutes in, Susan was kindly asked to leave. She did, but not without a snide remark about how she was “glad to be leaving that _dirty_ facility anyway.” 

Susan knew that one day she would burn in hell. But that day was not today. Today was Saturday.

One fateful morning, Susan awoke in her yurt. She dressed herself in pearls, cleaned up a bit, and invited her “girlfriends” over for tea and biscuits. She pulled out her Rose Congou tea—because everyone knows you should always serve black tea in the afternoon, unless you drink chamomile, but it’s common knowledge that it’s not real tea—and set it down on the table in her most valuable porcelain teapot.

Sharon was the first to arrive. “DAHHHLING! It’s been too long!” gushed Sharon, despite seeing Susan earlier that day in the Granola Section at Wholefoods.

“Mmhmm,” Susan responded nonchalantly, kissing Sharon on the cheek. Sharon’s kisses were terrible - sloppy and wet. Yuck. In fact, Susan thought she might have felt a brush of tongue on her face. Susan shuddered. She faked a smile to the best of her abilities.

“Well come on in, Sharon. The other ladies should be here soon,” Susan paused, then said, “I heard you’ve been talking with _my_ Johnny. It’s so sweet that you’ve been getting along so well.”

Sharon smiled the fakest smile to ever be smiled. “Yes, Johnny’s such a sweet snail. Easy on the eyes too.”

They both laughed and looked at each other for a few awkward seconds, Susan slightly narrowing her eyes. Suddenly, a high pitched voice could be heard from behind them, breaking the tension.

“Hello, ladies! Sorry I’m late. Heather, Barbara, and I carpooled. It’s sooo nice to see you guys!” exclaimed Tiffany.

“Tiff Tiff! So _good_ to see you, sweetie pie!” squealed Sharon, “Heather! Barb!” She went and kissed them each on the cheek, and they all gushed about how much they missed each other.

This went on for some time until Susan loudly smacked her eyeballs together, calling for the girls’ attention. They all turned to her, and she said, “I’ve laid out all the snacks on the table, so why don’t we move this little palooza over to the kitchen? Then Sharon can tell us _all_ about how cute she thinks _my_ Johnny is.”

At this Sharon blushed and swiftly slid past Susan and sat down in the head chair. She shamelessly took the cookies and offered them to everyone except Susan.

Susan’s blood began to boil. If Sharon wanted to play like that, Susan _would play like that_. She smiled good naturedly at Sharon and brought the tea out, sprinkling some salt into Sharon’s. While she was handing them out, she “accidentally” knocked Sharon's cookie to the floor. “Oh! I’m so _sorry_ , Sharon!” she said apologetically, “I can be such a klutz.”

Sharon sighed and agreed, nodding her head. “Yes, Susan, you can be.” She looked at her tea suspiciously and pushed it away slightly. 

Susan looked at Sharon with hatred in her eyes. She cleared her throat. “Sharon, your maid is just the _nicest_ thing. So cute, so young. Johnny tells me your husband absolutely _adores_ her.”

Sharon hesitated, sensing a trap. She knew she must tread lightly.

“Oh, yes! Why, he does think she is just the hardest worker. We are so happy she’s here!”

“Yes, I’m sure Christopher is _incredibly_ glad to have her. They must be really close. I saw him taking her to the nice Italian bistro down the street last Friday. She looked amazing, as always.”

Sharon’s eyes widened in surprise.

Susan stifled a giggle, because she had just made that up. Of course Sharon was stupid enough to believe it.

By this point, Barbara, Tiffany, and Heather were looking excitedly at this battle of wits, silently egging them on, hoping for an all-out shouting match.

Sharon recovered quickly. “Of course! It was my suggestion. That girl works so hard, and we thought we should treat her. I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about treating your help with respect though, would you, Susan? No? Didn’t think so.”

Susan had trouble fake smiling - Sharon’s smug face was too much to bear. Every snail that Susan had hired to help her had quit. “Why, I treat everyone with respect! It’s just that my yurt is so big and grand that it’s too hard to clean! And _I’m_ sure _you_ wouldn’t know anything about _that_.”

Heather interrupted, “Why, my maid had some qualms about working for us-- she said that it would be difficult to clean the whole house, but she said that we were just such nice and caring employers that she just _had_ to stay.”

Sharon looked over at Heather. “That’s so sweet, Heather. I’m so glad you and I have faithful maids, and even more grateful to have a faithful _husband_. It’s nice to be a married snail instead of having a _dud_ of a boyfriend who’s afraid of commitment,” she said with a glance at Susan.

That was too much. Susan jumped up, eyes blazing. “How dare you?” she spat. “At least my Johnny isn’t fucking some FLOOZY!”

Every other snail in the room gasped, and Sharon slammed her eyes against the table. _Hard_.

“You _BITCH!_ ” Sharon screamed. “No one is going to say anything like that to _me_ and get away with it! You just wait! You’ll see!” She stood up and slid out of the door menacingly, looking back with a glare as the door closed.

The room fell silent. Tiffany, Heather, and Barbara stared at Susan, then broke out into applause.


	2. Sharon and the Corpse and the Banana Bread

Sharon went home after the disastrous defeat at Susan’s yurt, driving like a demon, and ignoring all rules of the road. She almost knocked over a little toddler snail playing on the sidewalk. When the little kid started crying, she said harshly, “Oh, shut it, you little shit!”

The little snail’s mother gasped, scooped him up, and ran inside.

She got home and stormed up the front steps. “CHRISTOPHER!” she shouted. No answer. Of course. That was just how the day was going. The entire way home she had seethed over the nerve of Susan. She was nothing but some B-list celebrity in this city. Sharon was the real deal. She came from old money and had married into wealth. She was the richest bitch in this damn town and Susan had nothing on her.

“CHRISTOPHERRRRRRRRR _RRRRRRRRR!!!_ ” She shouted again, causing every snail within a mile of Sharon to tense in fear.

She marched up to his room and slammed the door open. There he was, laying on the bed, pretending to be asleep. Sharon had had enough. She was _fed up_. She paused, took a deep breath. She mentally prepared for the greatest rant she had ever ranted. Her rants were epic. _Legendary._ But this one would trump them all. She took another deep breath, then let loose.

“HOW DARE YOU, CHRISTOPHER!? YOU’RE A CHEATING BASTARD WHO DESERVES NOTHING EXCEPT A ONE WAY TICKET TO HELL! YOU LOOK LIKE ONE LONG STRING OF FISH SHIT AND HAVE THE PERSONALITY OF A THIN SLICE OF WONDERBREAD! YOU’RE JUST A BIG FAT _SLUG!_ YOU COULDN’T EVEN FIND A WORTHWHILE SNAIL THAT WAS WILLING SCREW YOU, DESPITE THE FACT THAT EVERY OTHER SNAIL IN THIS TOWN IS A WHORE! YOU LITERALLY HAD TO PAY SOMEONE TO TOUCH YOU, AND YOU KNOW WHY? IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE A WORTHLESS ASSHOLE WHO HAS A TINY DICK!”

When Sharon paused for breath, Christopher still hadn’t moved.

“AND DON’T YOU _DARE_ NOT ACKNOWLEDGE ME! YOU-” She slapped him in the face. He didn’t move. She poked him. He still didn’t move. Sharon stiffened.

“Christopher?” she whispered. “Christopher?” She shook him. “Oh shit... He’s dead.”

Sharon collected herself. She shrugged and walked downstairs to fix herself a bowl of organic granola. She chewed thoughtfully, and she brooded about his death - what it meant for her future. Eventually, she became happier and happier. She could use this! Her face split into a grin and she began formulating a plan.

∾

For as long as Sharon could remember, Susan was the Community Board President, but this summer the position was up for re-election, and Sharon intended to take Susan down. This was the perfect revenge-but first, she needed to call the police.

“The police are here for you and all your cosmetic needs!” A cheery voice on the phone answered. “What’s the reason for your call?”

Sharon began to fake cry. “Oh my!” she wailed, “My husband Christopher!” She sniffled for effect. “He’s… he’s _dead!_ ”

“Oh goodness gracious me! Well ma’am, let’s just make sure he’s dead. How do you know?”

Sharon had forgotten how terrible the law enforcement was. The police station consisted of a bunch of idiots lounging about, eating doughnuts, and talking about makeup.

“Well,” she explained patiently to this nimrod, “he has no pulse! I walked into the bedroom and assumed he was sleeping, but, but…” She burst out into sobs.

Hours later, the police had come and gone. They questioned her, consoled her, and removed the corpse, eventually determining the cause of death as banana bread overdose.


	3. The Debate of a Questionable Outcome

A week after the funeral, Sharon’s campaign was in full bloom. Playing the grieving widow, she had gained sympathy from many voters. But not from Susan.

Sharon knew that she was going to win this election. She _had_ to. Tonight was the famous presidential debate and Susan and Sharon were the two most popular candidates for this election. Sharon had been humiliated at Susan’s yurt, but now it was time for payback.

When Sharon arrived, Susan was already behind the podium, surveying the audience as if she already held the title of “President of the Community Board.”

Sharon slid past her without so much as a nod. She had dressed specially for this debate - she was wearing the clothes she had worn to Christopher’s funeral. Her plan was to play into the grieving widow persona as much as she could. On the other side of the stage, Susan was going over her notecards, mouthing the words as she read. She looked up and waved amiably at Sharon before dropping her notecards on the podium and slithering off to the snack shack. That fake shithead.

But this was the perfect opportunity. Time to screw with Susan. Sharon slid off towards Susan’s cards, planning on changing what they said, but when she looked at them, all that was written was: “Nice try, _bitch!_ ” Sharon locked eyes with Susan and activated her power glare. In response, Susan sipped her tea and winked. Her smile was infuriating. Bleaugh.

Sharon growled. She ripped up the notecards and violently threw them on the floor. 

Suddenly, dramatic music blared from the loudspeakers. The debate was about to start, and it was the most important event in this small town. Anyone who was anyone was here.

Sharon and Susan hurried to their podiums and were immediately blinded by the bright lights focused on them. The crowd erupted into cheers, and a distant voice announced, “LADIES AND GENTLESNAILS! WELCOME, WELCOME, TO THE EIGHTY-FOURTH ANNUAL PRESIDENTIAL DEBATE!” 

The crowd seemed to holler even louder than before, screams echoing off the stage. Susan and Sharon waved at the crowd, beaming, and winking at some of the guys. Once all had quieted down, the moderator began to speak.

“Susan B. Itch and Sharon D. Hore have entered into the final debate. They will each have sixty seconds to answer each question as quickly and thoroughly as possible.”

The first citizen stood up. “How are you planning to alleviate the amount of pesticides put onto our homes?”

Sharon answered first. “Thank you for such an educated question, I am so glad you asked. It is a very good question, thank you for asking. You see, this is a very important subject to me. My husband died from pesticides and I will die trying to stop them. These pesticides have been a threat for years, and what have the _previous_ presidents done to stop it, I ask? That’s right, nothing. But I will get rid of these pesticides immediately. That’s a promise.”

The crowd roared with approval, despite Sharon having avoided answering the question. Susan clapped politely and prepared her own answer. If Sharon was going to avoid the question, she would too.

“Well, I have been working hard on educating the children of this town, because they are the future, after all!” She laughed breezily, then said, “I will continue to work tirelessly to improve the quality of schools, and making sure _every_ _single_ child has the right to go, no matter what gender, race, or economic status!”

The audience clapped and smiled, and then a new citizen stood up.

“Speaking of the school system and the right to attend, what are your thoughts on the fact that we don’t have any universities or colleges?”

Susan leaned into her microphone, “Well, pesticides _are_ a huge problem here in our little town, and I will not stop until there are no pesticides left here to harm our beautiful community.”

The audience clapped, nodding approvingly.

Sharon then said, “Well, you know, my husband died of a lack of education. His brain was so weak from disuse that eventually it just stopped. He passed away because he didn’t get an education, but I will make sure this never happens to any of our wonderful children. His dream was to educate the youth, and I will see this noble project through.”

Many snails in the crowd looked at Sharon with sympathy, but Susan chuckled. Sharon whirled around. “What’s so funny about the death of my husband, _Susie?_ Hmm?”

Susan rolled her eyes. “I just think it’s funny that you pretend to know anything about education when we all know you have a room temperature IQ.” She smirked smugly at Sharon.

There was a collective intake of breath from the audience.

Susan continued, “You see, Sharon, _I_ will help the youth of tomorrow! _I_ will provide quality education and _I_ will support _each_ and _every_ pupil in these schools! For the betterment of _everyone,_ I will create a new, improved schooling system!”

The crowd cheered mightily, but the moderators silenced them.

“Susan, I’m afraid that was out of line-” one started, but before they could continue, Sharon interrupted.

“You want to talk about being stupid? It’s common knowledge that it takes you two hours to watch sixty minutes! Also, you couldn’t even get a husband because you look more like a _slug_ than a snail!”

The audience was silent. Slugs… they were just… the worst. This was an insult that trumped all insults. Then, they began cheering.

Susan replied, “Well, if I get elected president, the first thing I will do is KILL YOU!” She roared in anger and pointed at Sharon viciously.

The crowd erupted into raucous applause.

The mediator stood up. “ENOUGH! Ladies, I need you to stand down. Our next question goes first to Sharon. Ahem. What will you do about the increase in crime and gang activities?”

Sharon smiled. “Well, first off, I think we can all agree that the real crime here is Susan’s outfit.”

The audience laughed and nodded their heads agreeably.

The moderator spoke, “Sharon, I apologize, but I would argue that that’s not relevant, and also not true.”

Susan spoke up, ignoring the moderator. “That’s rich coming from you, Sharon. Didn’t you get the memo? Your husband’s funeral was _last week_.”

The crowd oohed. 

Sharon made a face at Susan. “Are you making a mockery of the death of my husband?”

“Oh, please. You’ve already done that yourself.”

The crowd rose and roared in approval. 

“Susan, I’m sorry but I think you’ve misunderstood. I’m not the embarrassment here, _you_ are!” 

The moderator stood up, “Stop this petty squabble this instant. Because you both refuse to remain civil, this debate is over! You may leave the stage.”

The audience screamed in disapproval and Sharon and Susan stared at the moderator incredulously. 

The moderator shushed the crowd. “And by default, the winner of this debate is Barbara D. Itz.”

The audience gasped, having forgotten Barbara was there at all. 

Sharon and Susan started complaining at once. 

“No way can she handle the responsibilities!”

“She doesn’t even know how to run a yoga class. How can she be expected to run the town?”

Barbara rose, and everyone fell silent. She surveyed the audience with a look of determination upon her face. “Politics is just like fashion,” she began, “As Carrie Bradshaw once said in the episode ‘Politically Erect,’ ‘They’re both about recycling ideas and making them seem fresh and inspiring.’ And if my associate's degree in Fashion and Design has taught me anything, it’s that I _can_ run a small town!”

Susan and Sharon had nothing to say to that. The crowd stood up and gave a standing ovation. 

The curtains closed. The debate was over.


	4. Heather and the School and the Prison

“...and God, one more thing. After you help those starving children and sickly people, will you please help me take down the damn PTA board? Amen.”

Heather opened her eyes, and stood up from the empty church pew. No one else was here, it was 11:00 A.M. on a Tuesday and most snails had “jobs.” Heather’s only job was bringing Jesus into everyone’s life.

One thing that she was _sure_ Jesus hated was yoga. She had gathered a few friends who thought likewise and they were planning to have a peaceful protest against yoga right outside the school. She just needed a few more supporters for the cause, so Heather invited the girls over. Well, she invited Susan, Tiffany, and Sharon. She knew what stance _Barb_ would take. She was a yoga _instructor!_

But unfortunately, Sharon and Susan were still in some fight and Tiffany took her position at the PTA very seriously and “did not want to affiliate with a challenger of the system.”

Instead, Heather posted a bunch of posters and flyers around the town that read: “Come and join the crusade against the sinful acts that permeate our children and sully their minds. Join us for a peaceful protest at 3:00 at SnailHaven Elementary, Thursday, April 24th.”

∾

Thursday afternoon, 25 minutes before the school day ended, Heather gathered outside the school with a large group of friends holding signs. She stood before them prepared to give a rallying speech. At 3:00 sharp, she climbed onto a large box and pulled out her megaphone.

“Welcome, friends!” she said, “We are here today, as you all know, to protest the terrible practice people are calling ‘yoga.’ It appropriates our religion, and I for one, am sick of my little boy Christian having to stand to the side while he watches his friends take part in some ritual. So I ask you, my friends, to stand up for what is right. Who’s with me?!”

The crowd hollered and stomped their tails. Suddenly, a voice rose above all others.

“Yoga will stay! I’ll make sure of that!” The crowd parted and Barbara emerged, her yoga classes following behind.

“Yoga enhances strength, coordination, flexibility, and most importantly, state of mind!” Barbara shouted through a megaphone of her own. “I will not allow you to take away the only meaningful thing this school teaches!” Barbara’s yoga classes let out a rallying cry.

Soon both groups were shouting at each other, brandishing their signs and yelling their slogans. On the pro-yoga side, there were signs that read: “Teaching children yoga? I’m down, dog.” “Yoga. It is good,” and “You want us to leave? Na ma ste.”

On the anti-yoga-ers side: “It’s a no go on yogo!” “Buddha? More like BuddHA! Yoga is a joke!” and “My kid, my religion. Yoga is for the devil.”

In the midst of it all stood Heather on her box, staring down Barbara, who had somehow set up her own stool during the chaos.

“Barbara! You can’t win! God is on our side. He is guiding us through this battle!”

“Screw you and screw God. Yoga is my life!”

Heather gasped in shock. Never had she heard words so vulgar.

Suddenly, a shrill scream filled the air. Everyone froze. In the mayhem, a snail had been hit over the head with a sign. She was the first to go down, but wouldn’t be the last. Because at that moment, the clock struck 3:15.

The shrill sound of a bell rang out over everyone. The low thundering noise of a stampede could be heard, and all of the protestors slowly turned to look at the schoolhouse door. Abruptly, it was violently thrown open and a flood of energetic, crazy, little children came rushing out.

Heather broke out of her trance, and straightened her back. She surveyed the scene: a fallen snail laid on the ground unconscious, a mob of angry snails surrounded her, and now almost every child in SnailHaven was here. Perfect.

“Get in formation, ladies and gents! The protest starts now!”

Abandoning the injured snail, the protesters began to raise their posters and yell their phrases once again.

“Yogo must go go!” they shouted, “Yogo must go go! Yogo must go go!”

Immediately, a rallying response of, “Na ma ste! Na ma ste! Na ma ste!” filled the air.

The kids stopped and contemplated the huge mob of snails in front of them, but they were _not_ going to let anyone stop them enjoying the rest of their day.

And so, being stupid children, they ran directly into the mob. 

Thus began one of the most intense battles in SnailHaven history. Fifteen snails were sent to the hospital and seven escaped with minor injuries. No harm came to the kids - a blessing that Heather insisted was a gift from God. This battle was forever known as the Schoolhouse Shock.

The instigators of the scuffle, Barbara and Heather, were sent to jail for the night.

Heather was not pleased.

∾

“How long are they going to keep us in here? Surely my husband is on his way to bail me out!”

Barbara looked up from her Padmasana and shushed Heather. Ever since they had been placed in the cell together Heather had been panicking. Barbara had tried to meditate, but she couldn’t with Heather’s constant whining.

“It’s been five fucking minutes, Heather. Would you please shut the hell up?!”

Heather fell silent. The combination of Barbara yelling at her and the use of the word “hell” had sent her into a shock.

Barbara sat down, closed her eyes, and began humming. “Ooooooooooommm…”

Heather glared at Barbara, and started mocking her with a high pitched hum. “Hmmmmmmmmmmm!!!”

Barbara flipped Heather off and resumed meditating.

“Bitch!” Heather gasped.

Barbara retaliated by releasing her negative energy. Loudly. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”

“HMMMMMMMMMMMmmMMMMMMMMmmmmmMMMm!” Heather mocked.

Barbara felt the energy flow from her to Heather. Heather's zen was disrupted instantly.

“AUGH!” Heather screamed, “What the fuck, Barbara?!”

Barbara smiled. The power of negative energy.

“Would you stop with that ‘omm’ing?! It’s driving me crazy!” yelled Heather.

“Would you stop humming? It’s even more annoying!”

“You’re annoying!”

“You suck!”

“You’re nothing but a no good yoga mom!”

“I’d rather be that than some crazy ass bitch like you!”

“YOU NEED JESUS!”

“FUCK JESUS!”

Heather gasped. “One day you will burn in the fiery pits of Hell! And when that day comes, I’ll be laughing in heaven. Because you, Barbara Itz, are an uncultured, smoothie drinking, yin yang wearing, lotus pose performing shithead, who, despite being young and _flexible_ , CAN’T LAND A BOYFRIEND!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss ‘I’m married to God,’ I didn’t know we were trash talking love lives, because we _all_ know you have a Jesus sex doll.”

“I DO NOT! And even if I did, I’d _still_ be getting more action than you are!”

“You. Have. No. Zen,” Barbara whispered menacingly.

It was quiet for a few seconds, then Heather looked up and quietly said, “You know, Barb… I’m still praying for you.”

With a growl, Barbara punched Heather square in the face. Heather’s eyes watered, and she sniffled. A single tear rolled down her face. Then another. Then another. Soon, Heather was wailing and shaking.

Barb looked at Heather in disbelief, rolling her eyes.

Heather did not stop crying. She sobbed, and screamed, and snotted. The floor was soon covered in fluids.

After about a half hour of this, a guard walked in and pulled Heather out of the cell. As she left, she shot a glance at Barbara and winked conspiratorially, smiled, and allowed herself to be led out.

Barbara was left alone, covered in snot, with no zen left.


	5. Tiffany and the PTA, Pasta, and Patty

Tiffany was having a bad day. Her kids were being monsters, but that wasn’t really different from everyday. No, today, she had to bring lasagna to the 3rd grade potluck lunch, attend a PTA meeting, and make it home in time to feed the never-ending black holes that were her children’s stomachs. The horrors of being a mother.

But if that wasn’t enough, she also had to face her nemesis, Deborah. Deborah always brought store bought goods to the bake sale, believed in “letting children learn for themselves,” and worst of all, she thought parents should let teachers do their jobs themselves. _Without help!_ She was clueless. If parents didn’t assist the teacher, the children’s education would be ruined. You could never be too careful about some of these teachers.

She took a deep breath. Deborah was a member of the PTA. Tiffany didn’t even know how that was possible. But one thing at a time. First, Tiffany would focus on making the perfect three cheese lasagna, then she’d focus on taking down Debbie.

She had made this lasagna probably hundreds of times, but this time was going to be the best. She would show everyone at the PTA that she should be the president. This lasagna was the first step to impressing them.

She was almost done making it when she heard the door slam open. She braced herself. Here come the kids.

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!” Jonah shouted, “Johnny stuck his tongue in my ear on the way home!!”

“Oh, honey! You’re home early! Why are you home early??”

Johnny piped up. “It’s a half day on Fridays, remember?”

Drat. Stupid kindergarteners with their stupid schedule. It was already annoying having six children, but having six year old twins was hellish.

She grabbed their backpacks and shooed Johnny and Jonah outside. She expertly unpacked their lunches, cleaned them out, washed, dried, and put them in the pantry in less than a minute. She hung their backpacks on hooks and turned back to her lasagna.

“SHIT!”

“We heard that, Mommy!” chorused Johnny and Jonah.

Tiffany looked at her burnt lasagna in misery, pulled a dollar out of her wallet, and sullenly put it in the swear jar. Great. Now she had less than two hours to finish a lasagna, prepare for a PTA meeting, plan dinner for her little monsters, _and_ she was a dollar short.

“No,” she thought, “I got this.” She worked well under pressure. She took a deep breath… and screamed as loud as she could, banged the counter, and cursed at the top of her lungs, throwing a dollar in the jar with every one.

She looked up, eyes huge and red, gasping, and chucked the lasagna, container and all, into the trash.

Perfect. All better. Now she’d just try again.

∾

Tiffany slowly slid into the lunch with her lasagna, hair frazzled and a bit of sauce on her shirt. No one pointed it out. She dropped the lasagna on the table.

Deborah looked over, sensing weakness. She took in Tiffany’s exhausted look, and felt a slight pang of pity. She ignored it, and glided over anyway.

“Wow, Tiff, the worn out mom look really suits you. I like the sauce on your shirt, it really brings the look together.”

“Thanks, Deb! The sauce is from my _homemade_ lasagna. The marinara is actually made from my _homegrown_ tomatoes. What did you bring again? A cake from Ralph’s?” Tiffany replied without missing a beat.

“Oh, I spend so much time working on my swing set height initiative, protecting the children here. I _had_ to bring something premade.”

“Right the initiative to lower the swings three inches. What a _noble_ cause.” Tiffany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She shouldered her way past Deborah with a condescending sniff, heading towards the potluck table to help serve her lasagna. Deborah let out a gasp and clutched her pearls.

∾

All the snails were seated in a circle around a table, smiling awkwardly at each other. Mrs. Patty Dawson, president of the PTA, stood up and cleared her throat.

“Recently, as some of you know, there has been a protest on the school campus lead by a woman named Heather Bibly. She and her followers believe that yoga should not be allowed to be taught in the school district. However, an opposer named Barbara Itz has organized a protest group in favor of yoga. It is up to us to make a decision.”

Everyone nodded and Deborah stood up to voice her opinion. Tiffany groaned, quite audibly. Everyone looked at her.

“Tiff, do you have a problem?” Deborah asked sweetly.

“So perceptive, Deb. Well, if you must know, it feels like these PTA meetings have become a counseling session for you to spend an hour giving your opinion to people who don’t care. Don’t you think it’s time for someone else to share? Just voicing my opinion here, like everyone _should_ have a right to.”

The room murmured in agreement.

Deb laughed a little and smiled. “Why, Tiff, there’s a _reason_ that I’m the assistant to the secretary of the vice president of the PTA. It’s because what _I_ have to say is the _right_ thing to say.”

Tiffany stood up at this. “Right. How _dare_ we question the authority of the _assistant_ to a _secretary?_ No one holds more power than someone whose full time job is a volunteer position.”

The PTA members snickered, encouraging Tiffany to go on.

“I’m sorry, no no, you should go on, blabbing about subjects you don’t understand,” Tiffany said, her eyes wide and innocent. “No, I’m sorry, go on, and I’ll let everyone else catch up on the sleep they’ve missed from working _paying_ jobs.”

Deborah gaped, but when everyone’s eyes swung back to her, she quickly rearranged her face into a pleasant smile.

“Good,” she said, “I’m glad we agree. Allow me to continue.”

Tiffany glared daggers at Deborah. Tiffany knew that she needed to keep her temper in check, so she took some deep breaths. 

Deb continued, “ _Any_ way, the S.S.H.I. believes…”

She never finished her sentence. Tiffany had let out a banshee scream and launched herself across the table, tackling Deborah. All of the PTA members got up and ran over to where Deb and Tiffany were rolling on the floor, punching, biting, slapping, screaming.

“I’ll tear you limb from limb!” wailed Tiffany.

“Never! You’ll pay for this!” Deborah screamed.

They knocked over tables while the members of the PTA cheered them on. They chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

All of a sudden, the door banged open. The principal, with his signature dramatic entrance, marched in with complete and total authority with the entire school board behind him. Even Patty stepped back.

Legend has it that it took ten men to tear Tiffany off of Deborah, and when they finally did, she spit out some of Deborah’s hair.

As soon as she calmed down, Deborah immediately began playing the victim. She pointed at Tiffany, blubbering, “She- she attacked me!”

Tiffany then said, “No! _She_ attacked _me!_ ”

They yelled at each other, and it seemed they might kill each other again.

Then, the members of the PTA started shouting, “Deb started it! It was Deb! Punish her!”

The principal, like any logical leader, followed what the masses called for. “Deb!” he ordered. “My office. Now.”

∾

Two months later, Tiffany had risen through the ranks. After the “incident” with Deb, Tiffany had asserted her dominance. She had effectively bullied her way to the top. Well, almost. She still wasn’t PTA president, but Tiffany was coming for Patty’s title.

Today was the day that she would set her plans into action. She had been scheming for weeks. This was phase one: confrontation with Patty at her house. She wore her power outfit: A neon pink pantsuit with a bright green headband.

She dropped Johnny and Jonah off at peewee soccer, Jake and Jason at basketball, Joseph at baseball, and Josh at football before driving herself to Patty’s modest cottage on Sunville Street.

She sat in the car for five minutes, doing the breathing exercises she read about in Mom of Six Magazine. She walked out and knocked confidently on Patty’s door, plastering a huge smile on her face.

Patty opened the door with a pained look on her face.

“Tiffy! What a… surprise!”

“Is it? I just thought we might have a chat, vice president to president.”

“Well, come on in. I’ll put the kettle on.”

Tiffany waltzed inside and found her way to the living room. Moments later, Patty came in with some tea. Tiffany graciously accepted the cup of steaming tea and turned down Patty’s offer of sugar. She sat herself daintily on the couch and cleared her throat.

“Patty, you must have been the president for what, thirteen years now?”

“Yes, something like that,” Patty replied.

“Does the job ever get to you? I mean, you must be sick of it.”

“No, not really. Nope, I love all of it!”

Damn. Patty wasn’t making this easy. She was so clueless.

Tiffany persisted, “Don’t you feel like exploring other options would be beneficial and fun? I’ve so enjoyed trying all the many jobs here at the PTA.”

Patty paused, thought about it. Thought some more. “No, I don’t think I’d like any other job.”

Tiffany exhaled through her nose. Subtlety was getting her nowhere. She switched tactics.

“Listen here, you dusty old hag! I’m telling you to retire as president, whether you like it or not! We need some new blood in that committee, so unless you want to end up like Debbie, you’ll do as I say!”

Tiffany stood up, twirled around, and left with a flourish.

Patty sat there, contemplating what Tiffany had said. No, she wouldn’t end up like Deb. Everyone liked her as president. She would have to break it to Tiffany gently.

∾

Tiffany was making her famous Macaroni & Cheese when she got the call. Patty had tried to break the news to Tiffany gently, which only further upset her. Now she was going to break Patty, and it _wouldn’t_ be gentle.

Tiffany’s husband, Jay, tried to calm her down, but that only ended in the destruction of the Mac & Cheese.

They ate takeout that night.

Dinner went as it usually did, with Johnny and Jonah telling everyone about the finger painting they made that day - very loudly. Jake complained about his math teacher, and Jason refused to eat anything green. Joseph, being the twelve year old boy he was, kept yelling “LIGMA!” and laughing randomly in hopes of getting attention. Josh sat silently, glaring at everyone, then excused himself, telling everyone he was going to do homework.

As usual, everyone got up and left without putting their plates away, (including Jay) which meant Tiffany had to do it. Like always. But. She. Was. Sick. Of. It.

“NOT TODAY!” she exploded, “I swear to God if none of you pigs learn to clean up after yourselves I’ll disown you all! That’s right, you too, Jay!”

She stormed off into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. The whole house shook.

Downstairs, Jay stood up cautiously, set his newspaper next to the radio and began clearing up. Johnny slid in slowly.

“Daddy?” Johnny asked, “Did Mommy catch the Menopause?”

“No, Johnny,” Jay replied soothingly, “She’s just having a hard week.”

After a moment's pause, Johnny asked again, “Daddy? Why is every week a hard week?”

Jay sighed. Mulled it over, shrugged, and said, “You know, maybe she did catch ‘the Menopause.’”


	6. Barbara and the Sweaty Snail, Two Gongs, and a Whole Lot of Smoothies

“Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out,” Barbara slid around the dimly lit yoga room, observing her class, and coaching them through their breathing. “Good concentration, Karen. Wonderful rhythm, Melissa. Wow, Desserae! I can really feel your zen today!”

Recently, Barbara’s yoga classes had filled up. After spending a night in jail as a consequence for peacefully protesting the possible ban on yoga in schools, she had become the most popular yoga teacher.

The Yoga Instructor’s Association of SnailHaven had even released a statement commending her “heroic actions to resist opposition, and complete zen in the face of danger.” She had finally been admitted into YIAS, a long standing ambition of hers.

As a result, Barbara dropped out of the running for President of the Community Board, deciding to focus all her energy on moving up in the ranks of YIAS. Once she officially pulled out of the campaign, she secured her friendship with Susan and Sharon.

The clock struck 12:00 and Barb’s class began to pack up, and the afternoon class began filing in. Barbara was excited because Sharon had finally decided to give yoga a try. Today was her first session. Her reasoning was: “due to the recent interest in yoga, painting myself as a supporter of the cause will be sure to bring in some supporters for my campaign.”

Barbara didn’t understand that, so she had responded with “cool!”

Sharon slid in holding an expensive new Yoga-Pro™ yoga mat. She took her time approaching Barbara, first mingling with the gaggles of yogis huddled by the entrance. After engaging in a lengthy conversation about granola, Sharon excused herself to greet the instructor.

“Barb! It’s so so _so_ great to see you! I have been looking forward to this class for like, three whole days!” Sharon babbled excitedly.

“I’m so glad you’re taking an interest in the process of enlightenment! I’ve always wanted one of the girls to take yoga, and now here you are! That’s like, so great!”

“Couldn’t miss it,” Sharon said, smiling earnestly. Barbara smiled back, then gently hit her giant gong, signaling the beginning of class.

Everyone went to their mats, and Barbara began in a mystical voice, “Welcome, everyone, to another day in which we get one step closer to enlightenment. Let us begin with a simple criss-cross applesauce.”

The class obeyed instantly, twisting and contorting their bodies into a pretzel shape. A cry of pain could be heard from Sharon, who avoided most forms of movement besides her morning power walk with Tiffany.

“Now, let’s take five deep breaths. In………… out………… in………… out…………”

Sharon could be heard in the back, wheezing heavily. Barbara walked between the rows, holding her travel gong-- a smaller version of her giant gong.

“In………… out………… in………… out………… in………… out………… Good. Now let’s all stand, and move up to the front of your mat.” 

Sharon grunted as she lifted herself off the floor. She swayed and wobbled, then promptly fell back onto the mat. That was where Barbara found her two hours later when the class ended.

“Hey, Sharon! How’d you enjoy your first yoga class? Totally awesome, right?” Barbara asked cheerfully.

A muffled groan emanated from the floor. Sharon rose slowly and looked up, covered in sweat.

“Wow, Sharon! Looks like you really got a great workout!” Barbara exclaimed, offering an eye. Sharon stood up slowly.

Sharon thought back to the past two hours of her laying, unmoving, on the ground.

“Yes, it was an insane amount of work. Thanks so much, Barb. Anyway, I’d better get back home and watch General Hospital reruns. I mean, I don’t have any other plans, so I guess I’ll be spending the day alone.” Sharon said, obviously fishing for an invitation.

“Oh! That’s cool. Well, if you want, you could come out with the yogis and I! We’re going to get smoothies!”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be! Come on, Sharon, it’ll be _fun!_ ”

Sharon grinned. This was all going according to plan. She was getting in with the yogis! And now, she could use them.

They walked out of the studio and walked the three miles to the Necktur Joos Barr at Super Snail Super Mall. Every snail got the same drink: The Kale Delight. It was an overpriced blend made out of juiced kale, carrot pulp, and cucumber, then blended with a mix of apple and pear juice.

Sharon chatted with the yogis, while Barbara drank her smoothie alone. She normally loved these gossip sessions with her friends, but today all she wanted to do was watch the first season of Sex and the City to see if she could find any advice on how to move up in YIAS.

She walked up to the group of yogis and said, “I’m so sorry, ladies, but I’ve got to go work on my lesson plans.” She made an apologetic face.

Everyone “awwwwed” and hugged her goodbye and promised to get together again sometime.

∾

It was 3:42 A.M. when Barbara had her epiphany. As far a epiphanys go, it wasn’t a very good one, but it was 3:42 in the morning, and it was Barbara’s brain. For her, this was a breakthrough.

What started as a binge-watch of the first season of Sex and the City quickly became watching all ninety-four episodes. And then, it hit her. Carrie Bradshaw’s friends had always helped her when she was in need. Surely, Barbara’s friends would help her, too.

She jumped up and grabbed her new uPhone Y-. She composed a text to Sharon, Susan, and Tiffany. Barbara couldn’t bear to ask Heather about _anything_ , let alone yoga. She couldn’t let Susan and Sharon know that they would be in the same room together, so she sent a text out to each girl individually. They all said the same thing:

Heyyy! Just wanted to ask a small favor. Is there any way we could get together soon?

Immediately, she got three responses:

fine

k

After I drop off Johnny at his friend’s house for a sleepover. He’s best friends with Paula’s son. Which, by the way, Paula is absolutely the WORST. She and her husband are constantly

Barbara didn’t even finish reading Tiffany’s - as usual - super long text. She smiled. The girls were back.


	7. Susan and the Garden Party of Passive Aggressiveness

Tomorrow was a big day. It was voting day. The Community Board President would finally, _finally,_ be chosen, but Susan wasn’t nervous. Her only real competition was Sharon, because Barbara had dropped out of the running, and the other candidates were ugly. But after what Susan had planned, Sharon would be out for sure.

Susan invited every high class snail to her yurt and, of course, everyone accepted. It would have been dangerous not to. Susan had ordered a magnificent cake and grabbed a few dozen bottles of champagne. Today was a celebration. A celebration for Sharon. She hung up a banner and set the cake where everyone could see it. At 8:00, snails began streaming in. She greeted them all with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

It was a beautiful night. She had set up tables covered in pristine white tablecloths and candles. They were surrounded by gorgeous plants and flowers. Snails were mingling, having a drink, and overall having a good time. Susan could throw a damn good garden party.

Susan stood up and clinked her diamond encrusted wine glass, then waited for the crowd to settle.

She cleared her throat condescendingly and began, “Welcome, everyone. Are you all enjoying yourselves?”

The snails clapped and smiled.

“Well, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I organized this little get-together. Allow me to explain. We are gathered here today to congratulate Sharon on her dropping out of the election to become a philanthropist! We applaud her for turning her attention to worthy charity causes. I personally find it inspiring, to put aside everything in order to work towards your dream job. Philanthropy is _such_ a respectable career.”

Susan raised her glass. “To Sharon!”

“To Sharon!” the crowd echoed.

Susan pulled on a rope, revealing the banner.

**CONGRATULATIONS, SHARON!**

Sharon stood in silent confusion before realizing that people were waiting for her reaction. She quickly composed herself and gave a cheerful wave to the audience.

“Sharon has prepared a nice speech for us. Would you like to come up here, Sharon?” Susan asked.

Sharon grimaced. Susan had devised the perfect trap. She had pulled Sharon out of the running with a single dirty trick. There was no way Sharon could disappoint all these snails by telling them she wasn’t becoming a philanthropist! They would hate her, and she would lose the popular vote. And, in any case, Sharon was sure Susan had invited reporters to this party, so the public was probably already misinformed. She had no choice but to make a speech. Damn it, why did it have to be philanthropy?

She stood up and slid over to Susan. “Well,” she said with a light laugh and a shrug, “I’m just as surprised as you are! When I discovered I loved philanthropy, I just had to do everything I could to pursue it. I have started a non-profit organization to help sad, lonely women in dead end relationships.”

Sharon paused to look at Susan. Susan’s eyes widened.

“These women tend to try to fill the void in their hearts by obsessing over insignificant things, like becoming President of the Community Board. I found myself to be falling into this same pattern, but Susan here helped me find my way out. So, I would like to thank her for this amazing opportunity. Thank you, Susan.”

Sharon went in for a hug, but Susan remained stiff. The crowd clapped politely.

“Yes, Sharon, I’m so happy I could help you find a profession better suited to your abilities than being of use to the community,” Susan paused, then added, “Sharon’s charity is called ‘A SHARONless World.’ SHARON stands for **S** ingle **H** elpless **A** nimals **R** endered **O** blivious & **N** aïve. So if you know a SHARON, call Sharon!”

“Oh! Susan, I wasn’t aware that we agreed on that name!”

“I just thought it was a great name for a great charity!” Susan said cheerfully.

“Well, I assume after all the work you’ve put into helping me start out, you’re going to be my partner, right?”

Susan tsked her tongue and shook her head.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to, unfortunately. Remember, _I’ll_ be Board President! So, thank you for your speech, Sharon. Now, WHO WANTS SOME CHAMPAGNE?!?” Susan popped open a bottle, and the guests cheered as they watched the champagne spew out.

The magnificent fountain in the center of the garden suddenly turned on, and wine flowed out instead of water. Strings of lights in the trees blinked on, illuminating a dance floor.

“It’s time to PAR-TAY!” Susan hollered.

Sharon stood in shock and watched as the world she had worked so hard to build crumbled around her. She was motionless as people danced, celebrated, and congratulated her on her demise. In the middle of it all was Susan, that she-devil bastard, holding a glass of champagne up to Sharon and mouthing, “cheers.”

∾

Susan woke up the next morning feeling, miraculously, fine. She got up out of bed, stared at her reflection straight in the eyes, and said, “You’re better than everyone else, you’re beautiful, and you’re gonna crush it in this election.”

Her morning mantra had become the only constant in her life as of late. Even her morning routine was unpredictable. Today, for instance, Susan had to attend a luncheon for all the candidates hosted by the mayor of SnailHaven, then she had to go to the famous election ceremony where they announced the winner. _And_ it was going to be on _live_ TV!

So, Susan quickly dressed in her finery and hustled out the door. The luncheon was a blur, but she remembered to mention not once, but twice how amazing “A SHARONless World” was. Susan considered it to be a complete success. With only three hours before the ceremony, she had to get ready fast. First, she took a shower, then meticulously dressed in red, white, and blue to show pride for her country. Finally, she put on her makeup. She glued on the heaviest fake eyelashes she owned, applied her darkest red lipstick, and beat her face with foundation until she achieved the desired look: a hooker with a hobby in politics. Satisfied, Susan set down her brushes, palette, and mirror in order to grab her purse. She was ready.

∾

When Susan walked onto the stage at the ceremony, everyone gasped. Susan could only assume it was because she looked beautiful, so she waved and continued to glide across the stage to her seat. She confidently looked around her at the competition. There was Carol, who wouldn’t win because she was ugly. There was Amber - who was coincidentally also ugly. And then there was Fred - he was ugly, too, but also just a complete idiot. Susan had this one in the bag.

So, as the mayor droned on about how every candidate was a valued member of the community, Susan didn’t feel the need to listen. This was her sixth time running for Community Board President, and she had never lost.

Susan was nodding off when they finally said, “The results are in! And the Community Board President is…”

Susan sat up straighter. She got ready to stand up, but didn’t want to seem presumptuous. She tightened her grip on her speech, arranged her expression into a triumphant, but pleasant smile, ready to rub her presidency in everyone’s face.

“Ms. Patty Dawson! Congratulations, Ms. Dawson! We know you will be a capable president and do everything you can for the betterment of our community!”

Susan stood up instinctively, waving to the crowd before faltering. Processing what she had just heard, she sat back down. Patty Dawson? Who the fuck was Patty Dawson??


	8. Sharon and the Unexpected Revenge

“It’s just…” the girl sniffled, choking her words out. “I don’t _wanna_ be a SHARON anymore!” She broke out into a sob, and Sharon patted her on the back.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. _No_ one wants to be a SHARON,” Sharon said. “We can fix this.”

It came as a shock to everyone when Sharon turned out to be actually _good_ at running the non-profit she was forced into three months ago. Sharon now had helped over a thousand SHARONs, purchased a building on Main Street, and had employed over a dozen snails. Her philanthropic empire was growing at an alarming rate.

The girl lifted her head up, her eyes red and puffy.

“I’m not hopeless?” she said tentatively.

“Of _course_ not, sweetie!” Sharon said comfortingly. “The first step to healing is admitting you have a problem. So, let’s go ahead and admit it. You can do it.”

“I… I have a problem!” the girl cried.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Sharon continued to console and talk to the girl. Hours later, her tears had dried and her hopes had risen. After the girl promised to only eat green foods for a week, Sharon escorted her out the door, declaring this another success story for A SHARONless World.

Sharon glanced at the clock. 5:00 - just enough time to make a dramatic entrance at the charity ball.

This ball would most definitely go well, because Susan wasn’t coming. After her disgraceful loss to Patty, Susan refused to be in the same vicinity as the new Community Board President, and it just so happened that Ms. Dawson would be there tonight.

Sharon had rented the grand ballroom for tonight. This venue was the most sought-after for important events, and had cost a small fortune, but it would all be worth it. Everything was perfect. She had set up tables with little name tags for everyone at their seats - to make it seem more exclusive. There were magnificent chandeliers, a dance floor, and the most beautiful banner designed by Sharon herself. It was an eye-catching electric yellow with huge block letters that read: “A SHARONless World! Helping and healing SHARONs every day!”

When she arrived, the ballroom was filled with socialites and aristocrats, but nothing in between. Immediately upon entering, she was greeted with a face full of Deborah.

“ _Tharon!_ _Tho_ good to thee you!”

Sharon took an involuntary step back. Deborah was clearly still recovering from “the incident,” as her lip was busted up, causing the worst lisp Sharon had ever heard.

“Tho lithen. Ife been thinking about Thiffany. I juth feel ath though, how do I thay this politely... When thee dieths, thee won’t be going… up _there_ , you know?” Deborah said, gesturing towards the ceiling.

“Interesting that you say that, Deb. But if you were planning on asking me to assist you in some elaborate scheme to get back at Tiffany for humiliating you in front of the entire PTA, I’ll have to decline. I’ve already got my hands full,” Sharon said, without even trying to put on a show of sympathy.

“But-” Deborah started.

“Toodles!” Sharon said, spinning on her tail and heading towards the stage, leaving Deborah behind.

Seconds later, right in front of the podium, she was stopped by another one of her least favorite people - Donald Frump.

“Hey, Don! What can I do for you?” Sharon asked politely, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Hey, Sharon. I just wanted to know if it would be okay if I said a few words on behalf of the Community Board?”

“That depends. Do I have a choice?” Sharon asked.

“You always have a choice, Sharon. Here, your choices are letting me speak, or instant death.”

“Then it’s decided! I’d be honored.”

Don walked up to the podium and cleared his throat. The hall fell silent and looked expectantly at him.

“Hello, everyone! It’s so good to be here tonight, celebrating Sharon’s wildly successful new charity organization - A SHARONless World. We all know she’s done a great job- by _far_ exceeding _all_ of our expectations. On behalf of the Community Board, I’d like to congratulate Sharon.” He paused for the applause to die down.

“And so, because we want what is best for the community, we would like to acquire the charity into the Board so it can reach more and more SHARONs.”

The crowd roared its approval and Sharon gasped. The power she would have! 

“That’s all. Thank you for your time, and congratulations to Sharon once again for all her hard work.”

Sharon practically floated up to the podium, full of cheer. Maybe it _would_ have been good if Susan was here to see this amazing victory.

“Of course, Don! I am so, so honored to accept! And I think that’s just the _perfect_ segue into our next topic: a quick update on all the new advances in A SHARONless World. Since we were founded, we have helped over _one thousand_ young, single snails find love, acceptance, and confidence within themselves. We have raised over _ten THOUSAND_ dollars for this new charity, and our methods have proved _one hundred_ percent effective! One _hundred_ percent! Thanks to you all, our generous donors, volunteers, and supporters, we can reach any snail who feels she may be a SHARON.”

Sharon bragged and thanked and bragged and thanked for well over an hour while the guests were served dinner, and then finally concluded her speech.

Sharon raised her glass. “To A SHARONless World!”

“A SHARONless World!” the crowd echoed.

∾

Sharon declared this night to be the greatest victory A SHARONless World had yet, and her charity had had a _lot_ of victories. She was even more powerful than before, and Susan’s vicious little plot against her happened to work in Sharon’s favor. When she finally got home, she felt as if she was glowing. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, even though she loved having the whole bed to herself, now that Christopher was dead. She was far too happy.

Sharon walked into her gigantic house and flopped onto the sofa, turning on the TV. The news came up. She was about to change the channel when she saw Susan’s face. What was Susan doing on the news?

Sharon sat up straighter and turned up the volume. “Susan Itch has suffered a _major_ defeat this last election after five consecutive years of holding the title of ‘Community Board President.’ The new president, Ms. Patty Dawson, has quite an impressive record. As well as President of the Community Board, she is also President of the PTA at SnailHaven Elementary. After Ms. Itch demanded a recount, it was discovered that there was a mistake. Previously, it was believed that Ms. Dawson won with a seventy percent popular vote, but upon reexamination, it was discovered she actually had _eighty_ percent of the votes! Susan has been buried in a landslide! Ms. Dawson declined to comment, but here’s what Susan had to say.”

Sharon looked on in awe as Susan’s face appeared onscreen. Susan looked up. “Thank you. I just have to congratulate Patty on her new position. As a veteran in the Board and five time winner of the title, I would be honored to help you on your path to running the community.”

Susan’s words were kind, but Sharon could see the true anger and malice in her eyes. Susan continued, “I support you fully in this new stage of your career, and congratulate you once again.” The piece on the election ended and a new bit about teens vaping came up. Sharon clicked the TV off.

She sat there on her couch, not believing anything. Now, Sharon’s charity had been acquired into the community board, Susan had lost the election, _and_ was humiliated on live TV! Sharon would never be able to sleep now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost my co-writer after this chapter, and they're a lot funnier than I am, so the following chapters might not be as humorous. I'm doing my best, though!


	9. Tiffany and the New Alliance

There was too much going on in Tiffany’s life, as always. But this time of year was always exceptionally busy, because it was the annual Granola Convention. Granola-Con was the second biggest event every year, just after the presidential election. There were booths with different types of granola, granola merch, and even granola themed rides for the kids. Tiffany never particularly liked Granola-Con, though, and that was because of the world-famous granola cook-off. _Deborah_ always entered and _never_ lost. Tiffany had never even entered in previous years, but this year she decided she would. She had already destroyed Deborah’s reputation within the PTA, and to add insult to injury, she would take away her title of “Granola Queen.”

The cook-off wasn’t until the last day of the convention, and Tiffany had decided to set up a booth. Her specialty was “Granola on the Go,” because she needed to feed her goddamn kids all the time. Plenty of the other girls were setting up booths as well. Barbara had her HealthMax Zen Granola, Sharon had a booth promoting A SHARONless World, and Heather had her so-called Holy Granola. Tiffany wasn’t quite sure how granola could be holy, but she didn’t pretend to understand Heather, or religion, for that matter. Susan was the only one without a booth. Susan hadn’t been doing too great recently, due to the fact that Sharon’s charity was doing so well and that Ms. Patty Dawson had become president of the Community Board. 

As Tiffany filled tupperware container after tupperware container with mountains of Granola on the Go, she was struck with the most amazing idea. Besides hating Deborah, Tiffany had a deep, burning antipathy towards Patty, and, as of now, so did Susan. Everyone knew that Susan was a master of disaster. Perhaps… perhaps, Tiffany thought, she and Susan could work together to discredit Patty. Susan would get revenge, and Tiffany would finally get to be president of the PTA. Maybe Susan would help Tiffany win the cook-off too! A win-win-win. Of course, this alliance would be quite hush-hush, as were all of Tiffany’s covert operations to rise to the position within the PTA she had right now.

Tiffany hurriedly finished filling the containers with granola, wiped her eyes on her apron, grabbed her purse, and power walked over to Susan’s yurt.

“Susan?” she called. She knocked gently.

Susan answered with, “Oh. Tiffalicious. What’s up?”

“Hey Susan!” Tiffany replied, not daring to walk in without an invitation. “So. You hate Patty, right?”

“Yes…” Susan said through clenched teeth. She hated even the mention of Ms. Patty Dawson.

“Do you want to help me get back at her?”

Susan hesitated. “What do you have in mind?” she finally said, inviting Tiffany in.

∾

Granola-Con would be held on Main Street, which was in the center of town. Booths had to be set up before 7:00 in the morning, so Tiffany was able to sleep in, as Jay was taking care of the kids for the whole week of the convention. She woke up at 6:00, got ready, and drove her dozens of containers of granola to the convention. There was a main area where events would be held, and all along the street would be the rides and booths. When she got there, she checked the schedule:

**Granola-Con Schedule**

Monday:

 **8:00 - 9:00** Granola-Con kickoff!

 **9:30 - 11:00** Panel Discussion - Breakfast Granola Experts

 **11:30 - 2:00** Workshop - Learn to Make: 

\- Coconut Macaroon Granola

\- Coconut Walnut Sunflower Seed Granola

\- Chai Spice Granola

\- Maple Cinnamon Granola

\- Chocolate Almond Granola

 **2:30 - 3:30** Sponsor Presentation: _Yoga Instructor’s Association of SnailHaven_

 **4:00 - 6:00** Movie Showing - Sam Lee’s _“Granola Around the World”_

 **6:30 - 7:00** Raffle Winners Announced

Tuesday:

 **8:00 - 9:00** Presentation - _“The Body and Granola: Keeping Your Heart Healthy”_

 **9:30 - 11:00** Panel Discussion - Healthy Granola Experts

 **11:30 - 12:00** Sponsor Presentation - _A SHARONless World_

 **12:30 - 3:00** Workshop - Learn to Make: Healthy Granolas

 **3:30 - 5:00** Learn to Play: _Granola: The Trading Card Game_ and Booster Pack 

Giveaway

 **5:30 - 7:00** Book Signing: 

\- Julia Ray’s _“Breakfast Granola Recipes”_

\- Margaret Miller’s _“The Best Healthy Granola Recipes”_

Wednesday:

 **8:00 - 10:00** Panel Discussion and Debate: Crunchy vs. Chewy Granola Bars

 **10:30 - 11:30** Presentation - _“Granola Bars: Crunchy Snack, Chewy Breakfast”_

 **12:00 - 12:30** Reading - Emily Frost’s _“But a Heart of Granola - A Compilation of Poems”_

 **1:00 - 3:30** Workshop - Learn to Make Granola Bars:

\- Chewy Peanut Butter Granola Bar

\- Spiced Nuts Granola Bar

\- Cranberry White Chocolate Granola Bar

\- Tropical Granola Bar

\- Sunflower Granola Bar

 **4:00 - 7:00** Concert: _The Granolars_

Thursday:

 **8:00 - 9:30** Movie Showing: Archibald Kelly’s _“Granola Over the Mountains: An_

_Artist’s View on Oats”_

**10:00 - 11:30** Competition: _Granola: The Trading Card Game_

 **12:00 - 1:30** Panel Discussion: _Granola in Popular Culture_

 **2:00 - 4:30** Workshop - Learn to Make:

\- Maple, Pecan, and Sour Cherry Granola

\- Hazelnut Granola

\- Cherry Almond Granola

\- Candied Orange Peel Granola

\- Sugar-Free Granola

 **5:00 - 7:00** Panel Discussion and Debate: Can Granola be for Lunch or Dinner?

Friday:

 **8:00 - 7:00** The Great Granola Cook-off!

 **8:00 - 8:30** Introduction

 **8:30 - 9:30** First Challenge: Breakfast Granola

 **9:30 - 10:00** First Challenge Judging

 **10:00 - 11:00** Second Challenge: Sweet Granola

 **11:00 - 11:30** Second Challenge Judging

 **11:30 - 12:30** Third Challenge: Yogurt Granola

 **12:30 - 1:00** Third Challenge Judging

 **1:00 - 2:00** Break and Finalist Selection

 **2:00 - 3:00** Fourth Challenge: Chewy Granola Bar

 **3:00 - 3:30** Fourth Challenge Judging

 **3:30 - 4:30** Fifth Challenge: Crunchy Granola Bar

 **4:30 - 5:00** Fifth Challenge Judging

 **5:00 - 6:00** Final Challenge: Signature Granola!

 **6:00 - 6:30** Final Challenge Judging

 **6:30 - 7:00** Granola Queen Crowning!

The only thing Tiffany _really_ needed to go to was the cook-off, but she knew that Jake and Jason would want to go to that card game thing, which was okay. Right after that was a book signing, and Tiffany didn’t mind a signed copy of _Breakfast Granola Recipes,_ one of her favorite cookbooks. She thought she also might go to the debate about crunchy or chewy granola, too.

She looked up and saw Susan waving at her from her own booth. They had grand plans for dealing with Patty, but since the Cook-Off was so soon, Susan agreed to help Tiffany destroy Deb this week.

Tiffany slid over to the empty booth beside Susan’s and began pulling out dozens of containers of Granola on the Go.

“Hey Susan,” Tiffany said.

“Hey Tiffalicious. The kick-off starts in about an hour. Ready?” Susan replied.

“Of course I’m ready,” Tiffany said, narrowing her eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Susan looked over and pursed her lips. Right.


	10. Barbara and the Speech and the Preach

The first thing Barbara felt when she woke up was a wave of unstoppable excitement. Granola-Con started today! She was so anxious to get there that she almost couldn’t focus during her morning meditation. _Almost._ Nothing, not even the prospect of helping give a presentation at Granola-Con could make her skip her morning routine. She grabbed a nice scented candle and meditated for ten minutes, then thought about things she was thankful for. 

And she had _so much_ to be thankful for. After Barb had sent that text to Sharon, Susan, and Tiffany, they had given her some great pointers. Well, Tiffany had given her some great pointers. Sharon accidentally slept in that day, and Susan had something suddenly come up. Tiffany had explained that one of the best ways to increase social status was to bully people, and though Barbara was generally against bullying, Tiffany had helped her practice.

She wrote that down and everything else she was grateful for in her journal, then made her plan for the day. She took a shower, then spent about half an hour applying various skincare products and moisturizers. Finally, she took her daily vitamins and made herself some coffee - with soymilk, of course. Prepared for the day, she headed out.

She was a bit early when she got there, so there were still seats left. She didn’t need to set up her booth today, she would be selling her HealthMax Granola Tuesday and Thursday only. She spotted Susan and Tiffany in the crowd and went to sit down next to them.

“Hi Tiffster! Hi Susan!” Barbara said, sitting down.

“Hey Barb,” Tiffany responded, “How are you?”

“Well,” Barbara started, “I’m pretty excited today, you know, because Granola-Con is starting, like, _what??_ I _love_ Granola-Con! But like, I’m kinda nervous for the presentation today, though, but-”

“Okay,” Susan interrupted, “I didn’t ask for your life story.”

“Oh,” Barbara said, looking down dejectedly, “Sorry.”

She sat silently for a moment, fidgeting in her seat, when one snail walked out into the large empty space on the street.

“Oh hey!” She pointed out excitedly, “It’s starting!”

Susan rolled her eyes, but Barbara didn’t notice.

“Hello everyone!” the snail said, “Welcome to the eighty-ninth annual GRANOLA-CON!! Who’s excited??”

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

“I’m Priscilla Simmons, president of the Granola Foundation, and, let me tell you, we’ve got so many exciting events for you all this week! Some of the biggest names in the granola world are here this week, including the _legendary_ cooks, Julia Ray and Margaret Miller!”

The assembled snails cheered again.

“With the help of our very generous sponsors, we’ve been able to create an amazing new activity this year - the GranolaCoaster!”

Everyone cheered mightily, especially the younger snails.

“We have such an exciting agenda…” Priscilla’s speech went on for about an hour, as she explained all the activities and introduced all the visitors, but finally wrapped it up when she said, “Well, I’ve been talking for _far_ too long, and I’m sure all of you are bursting with excitement to get into it all! So I thank you all for being here! Thank you so much!”

The crowd stood up, clapping and cheering and whistling. The first activity was a panel discussion about breakfast granolas, followed by a workshop. Then, it would be time for her presentation! All her hard work moving up in YIAS was finally paying off. It would be a talk given by the highest ranking members of the Yoga Instructor’s Association of SnailHaven, and Barbara had been invited to join them!

She mingled with other snails and learned how to make a killer chai spice granola, and then it was finally time.

At 2:30, Barbara and a few other yogis walked onto Main Street, and she was pleased to see that there was a decently sized crowd. She beamed at the snails, then froze when she saw Heather sitting in the front row. What was she doing here? Was she going to try to ruin her presentation with some protest like she had at the elementary school? Barbara quickly shook her head. She shouldn’t assume the worst. Maybe it was harmless. Maybe she had had a change of heart and decided to begin the process of enlightenment.

She snapped back to reality. Priscilla Simmons was almost done introducing them!

“And without further ado, I give you Ashlee O’Donnell, president of the Yoga Instructor’s Association of SnailHaven!”

The crowd clapped politely.

“Thank you so much, everyone, for being here today,” Ashlee began, “We are honored to be sponsoring this absolutely _wonderful_ event that the Granola Foundation has done an _amazing_ job organizing.” Priscilla smiled and nodded slightly from the side.

“Now, you know, we don’t sponsor just _any_ event being put on in this beautiful town of ours,” she said, and all of the yogis looked pointedly at Heather.

“But,” Ashlee continued, “Granola-Con is a perfect example of all the values we at YIAS believe in. It brings the community together, it supports artists and creators - and the most important thing - granola is healthy - for the body _and_ the mind!”

Barbara nodded knowingly.

“Now, I’ll hand it off to Mari-Lynn Byers, head of Community Outreach.”

The presentation went on and on, until it was finally Barbara’s turn to talk about the many yoga classes offered in SnailHaven.

“Hi everyone,” she began. She immediately regretted that. She was pretty sure someone had already started with that, and she should have said “hello” instead of “hi.” “Hello” was more professional. Whatever. Continue.

She smiled broadly, then said, “My name is Barbara Itz, and I’m one of the yoga instructors in YIAS.” Oh no. That was redundant. _I’m one of the instructors in the_ Yoga Instructors’ _Association of SnailHaven???_ So stupid!

“We offer a variety of classes every week for many different levels. You can start at any time, and we have many wonderful instructors!” God. She needed to stop. She had said “instructor” maybe fifty times in this entire speech. She didn’t know how Priscilla managed.

“Also, if you pick up a flyer at the YIAS booth here at Granola-Con, your first three lessons will be _completely free!_ ” She guessed that sentence was okay, but she forgot to praise her fellow instructors more. And now she couldn’t talk about them more because she had already moved on. God damn it. She just had to wrap up.

“Thank you all so much for coming today,” she concluded. Damn, she was pretty sure Ashlee had said those exact words earlier. Or maybe she hadn’t. No, she _definitely_ had. That whole thing was a disaster. Also, that speech was a tad too short. She should’ve dragged it on a bit longer, or talked slower. She was pretty sure she had spoken that at light speed.

After, Barbara walked up to Mari-Lynn and Ashlee. “Oh my _gosh!_ ” she exclaimed. “That was, like, the most nerve-racking thing I’ve done in my entire _life!_ ”

“Oh, but you did so _good!_ ” Mari-Lynn reassured her. Mari-Lynn was so nice. Barbara let out a sigh. She calmed down a bit and decided to walk around the convention. As she was walking by the many booths, she stopped dead in her tracks. Right next to the YIAS booth was Heather’s booth with a huge banner that read, “Don’t Succumb to the Devil! Yoga is Never Okay!” On the table was a large stack of flyers advertising Bible study classes. The _audacity_ of that woman! She marched right up to Heather’s booth to tell her exactly what she thought of her Bible study.

“Barb!” Heather called from her booth as Barbara approached. “Your speech was so good, congratulations!”

Barbara wasn’t expecting that. “Um… thanks? I guess?”

“Too bad it was completely factually incorrect.”

Barbara started. “What?”

“Well, Ashlee said that yoga was healthy for the body and mind. If you’ve read the Bible, which I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you _haven’t_ , then you would know what Jesus says about yoga.”

“Really? And what’s that?”

“Ahem, Snailitus 6:9, and I quote, ‘Thou who practice Yoga shall feel instantly the retribution of God upon their mortal bodies, and thus being a great burden upon any soul, must seek solace in God’s grace.’”

Barbara opened her mouth to speak, but Heather quickly cut her off.

“And, Snailitus 6:10, _and I quote,_ ‘Thou shalt not commit the sin of Yoga; if thou shalt practice Yoga, thou shalt most certainly burn in Hell for all eternity.’” Heather looked up smugly. “You can’t argue with Jesus, now can you?”

“Um, Heather, I think I _can_ argue with Jesus. You can’t tell me what to do, and Jesus can’t tell me what to do. Yoga is, like, one of the best things you can do for yourself, so... you’re just depriving yourself!”

“Well, Barb, honey,” Heather said, a smug smile spreading across her face, “What proof do you have?”

“Um… what? What do you mean?”

“I mean, what proof do you have? Who says that yoga is good for you?”

“Heather, if you’d just take a little bit of time, you’d see that yoga offers so many benefits! Just look at me, and all the rest of the yogis in YIAS! We’re in the best health!”

Heather said nothing, but simply pulled out a packet of paper. “Well, Barbara, _I_ have proof of _my_ statement: Yoga is bad for you.”

Barbara stood in disbelief as Heather cleared her throat and began to read:

“This study investigates the correlation between practicing yoga with health, both physical and mental. Participants were sorted into three categories: no yoga, yoga once a week, and yoga every day. There were also three groups of snails chosen from to conduct this study: snails who have never done yoga before, snails who practice yoga, and snails who are considered experts in yoga, meaning snails who have done at least 10,000 hours of yoga.

“These snails were asked to perform certain amounts of yoga, and were then tested for blood pressure, cholesterol levels, and BMI. They were also given a survey asking them questions about how they felt, and their levels of happiness. A quick summary of the results are given below.

“When snails begin doing yoga after never doing it before, their levels of happiness and health dropped dramatically. Yoga amateurs had very high levels of happiness, and average levels of health when they stopped doing yoga, and happiness and health dropped the more yoga they performed.

“Perhaps the most startling statistic is the yoga experts. When they stopped yoga altogether, their happiness rose steadily, as well as their health. These levels stayed constant, at right below average, for once a week and once a day.”

Heather looked up and grinned broadly. “Need I say more, Barb?”

Barbara stood stock still. She had nothing to say to that.

“You see, Barb, _science_ backs up God’s word.” Heather was on a roll. “And now, I say definitively, _yoga is bad for you._ So please, everyone,” Heather said, addressing all of the snails that had gathered to watch this exchange, “if you value your health-- mental, physical, and spiritual, do not partake in yoga!”

Barbara looked around in panic. She saw Mari-Lynn with her eye over her mouth. She saw Ashlee shaking, seeming like she was trying not to throw up.

Slowly, the snails started moving towards Heather’s booth. Barbara even saw a few put back their fliers for free yoga classes. She felt like crying. There was nothing she could do; nothing she could say to fix this.


	11. Heather and the Jesus Parade

Heather went home feeling as if Jesus himself had descended from the heavens to bestow upon her a warm embrace. She had absolutely _destroyed_ Barbara at Granola-Con that day, and as soon as she stepped through the door, she immediately gave her thanks to Jesus:

“Thank you, Lord, for helping me through this difficult battle, and thank you for helping me serve others who might have made the wrong choices. Thank you for showing me what I know is right, and for all the blessings you’ve given our family. Amen.”

Right then, Heather’s husband, Nathan, walked in. “Hey honey! How did it go?”

Heather beamed up at him and said, “Oh, you know it went well. I think we need to do a little something to celebrate.”

Nathan smiled suggestively. “Oh, I see…”

“Yes!” Heather said, “We’re gonna have a JESUS PARADE!”

Nathan squealed and shook his eyes around excitedly. Heather giggled and jumped up and down in delight.

“Yay!!” Nathan shouted, “I _love_ Jesus Parades!!! I love them almost as much as I love you, and I love you almost as much as I love Jesus, and I love Jesus almost as much as I love God!”

“I _know!_ ” Heather exclaimed, “And it’s been so _long_ since the last Jesus Parade! What better way to celebrate Christianity than an exorbitant display of unbridled materialism?!”

When Heather and Nathan finally managed to get their emotions under check, they immediately began planning. It would be a magnificent show of the power of Jesus. They spared no expense.

∾

On Tuesday, Heather was feeling as bubbly as ever. She stood behind her booth, handing out tupperware containers filled with Holy Granola and giving out stacks and stacks of flyers for Bible Studies. 

In addition, she was also promoting A SHARONless World. She told everyone she could about what a noble cause Sharon’s charity was pursuing, and how any Christian would support her and her efforts.

At 11:30, she left the booth in Nathan’s capable hands, and ran to catch Sharon’s presentation. She nabbed a seat that had been saved for her close to the stage, and waved to Sharon, who was getting ready to speak. Sharon waved back, smiling.

Finally, Sharon stepped forward to give her speech. “Hi everyone!” she began.

Immediately, all chatter stopped as everyone looked up at Sharon.

“First of all, thank you all for coming down here today. It really does mean a lot to me. I hope you all have been enjoying Granola-Con so far; I know I’ve been having an _amazing_ time!”

The crowd nodded and smiled at Sharon’s words.

“Yes, I think it’s safe to say that this convention has been a total success, and I am so proud to have been a part of this. Here at A SHARONless World, we aim to improve the lives of people who have lost their way. We hope for everyone to be happy and to be content with their lives. And though it might not seem like it, the Granola Foundation also fights to help others! They bring joy to many people, and donate literal _tons_ of granola to those in need. It would be just insane to _not_ support the Granola Foundation.”

The crowd clapped as Sharon skillfully maneuvered her speech towards her own organization.

“And just as I have been glad to assist the Foundation in their efforts, they have graciously helped me with my own. With the support of the Granola Foundation, A SHARONless World has been able to launch a new program: Distanced Healing. Even though our little non-profit has been able to reach so many SHARONs within SnailHaven, we strive to make a difference _everywhere._ That’s why we have created a new campaign to reach _beyond_ SnailHaven with meetings online, or online courses to help SHARONs far and wide find themselves!”

Sharon continued telling everyone who had assembled all about how successful she was, then she finally wrapped up.

“I just have one last thing to say. This is not officially a part of the convention, but my good friend Heather has set up an absolutely _wonderful_ event after today’s activities, so please stay a little bit longer after the convention today. I promise you won't be disappointed. Thank you all again, and I hope you enjoy the rest of Granola-Con!”

Heather clapped with all the other snails and grinned at Sharon as she waved and stepped off the stage. Sharon flashed a thumbs-up at Heather.

∾

At 7:30 that night, Heather stood in the middle of Main Street, watching the sunset. She worked swiftly, and her parade was ready to go. She, Sharon, and Nathan had done a good job of spreading the word about this event. Thankfully, Sharon had cooperated. Heather had offered her support for A SHARONless World in exchange for help increasing attendance for this event. Nathan had felt skeptical about this exchange, but Heather had assured him that it was worthwhile. A SHARONless World was no threat to Heather, and it felt good just to rub her victory in Barbara’s face.

The turnout was even better than Heather hoped. There were large groups of people gathered on either side of the street. Heather pulled out her walkie-talkie.

“Okay, Nathan,” she said into the device, “Let’s show these people what Jesus is all about.”

“Roger that,” came the crackly reply. Heather rolled her eyes. Nathan was having far too much fun with these walkie-talkies.

Heather looked down Main Street expectantly, tapping her tail impatiently. Then, the glorious floats came cruising down-- bright, glowing symbols of her success. A shiver ran down her spine. She smiled broadly, then walked off to the side of the road to stand beside Sharon.

The parade lasted for about fifteen minutes. The first float was a giant cross illuminated by bright yellow lights. Following that was a large bible propped open. The words on the pages glowed and read: “With Jesus, there is no such thing as failure. Shelldon 3:14.” After the Bible float was a model of a church, with the stained-glass windows softly glowing. This one was Heather’s favorite, and in addition to being absolutely breathtaking, it also played hymns from speakers within the structure. The Christian-themed procession moved slowly down the street, until the last float passed: a pile of yoga mats set on fire.

Heather stood in silence, suddenly feeling tired, when Sharon turned to her. “That was nice.”

“Thanks, Sharon” Heather responded, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Really. It was nice. It feels good to just relax and watch a parade. You know, after all this shit that’s been going on.”

Heather raised an eyebrow. “I suppose so…”

“Thanks for the support for A SHARONless World, too.” Sharon turned to leave. “See you.”

“Bye,” said Heather. Sharon was right. It did feel good to relax after everything that had happened.

That night, she let Nathan take care of sorting out all the parade business. Heather went home, poured herself a glass of wine, and took a nice bath. Everything was going her way, and she deserved to treat herself after all her hard work.


	12. Susan and the Great Granola Cook-Off

Friday morning, Susan woke up very early to prepare for the long day ahead. She had been feeling awful after everything that had happened to her. She hadn’t been elected President of the Community Board, and Sharon was absolutely thriving with her charity. No. Susan couldn’t even bear to think about it.

Today, she would be helping Tiffany destroy Deborah in the cook-off. Susan actually felt a little excited. Finally, after all the defeats she had suffered, Susan could finally make someone else’s life terrible.

Feeling marginally better, Susan stepped out of her yurt and slid down to Main Street.

The crowds on Main Street were the largest they’d been all week, but that was to be expected. After all, today was the big granola cook-off.

The announcer was explaining the rules, so Susan tuned him out as she surveyed the contestants. There was Deborah, of course, and Tiffany as well. In addition, five other brave souls were trying to topple Deborah from her throne of granola. The seven contestants, Deborah Destiroy, Tiffany Mutter, Candice Barker, Alyssa Frank, Kelsey Smith, Sarah Williams, and Hannah Rose, stood behind their stations, ready to take on the first challenge-- breakfast granola.

Susan glanced at Tiffany. They had a plan for discrediting Deborah, but it was up to Tiffany to get to the finals. Susan hoped she could stay calm and get through this. Tiffany certainly had a tendency to… lose her shit.

Susan sat through the miserable half hour of introductions and waited for the action to begin.

∾

“And now, for the first challenge of the day!” the announcer, Liam Davis, began. “And, as you know, the task is to create a delicious breakfast granola! The contestants will have one hour to prepare their dish, and then it will be judged based on presentation, taste, and how well it fits the theme of the challenge. It will be interesting to see what our contestants come up with! With that, I think we’re ready to start. Alright… begin!”

Liam slid to the far left of the stage as the snails immediately started to get out their materials. “So! Miss Williams! What have you got planned for today?”

Sarah looked up at Liam while preparing her oats. “Well, I’m making a simple honey granola that’s going to be very loose and crumbly. For my sweetener, of course, I’m using honey, and I’m using almonds, pecans, and walnuts.”

“That sounds delicious! I wish you the best of luck with your granola, then!”

“Thanks, Liam!” Sarah said as she whisked an egg white.

“Moving on, we have Hannah Rose! Hannah, would you mind telling us what you’ve got going on here?”

“Of course,” replied Hannah as she tossed a bowl full of ingredients. “For my breakfast granola, I was thinking of traditional breakfast foods, and thought that it would be nice to make a savory granola. This way, it could be eaten alone, or even with other breakfast foods, like eggs or bacon.”

“What a wonderful idea! I can’t wait to see how it’ll turn out! Now, is that cayenne pepper I spy?”

Hannah laughed as she sprinkled some of the powder into her bowl. “Yes, it is! Just for a bit of flavor, you know?”

“I see! What an innovative granola!” Liam exclaimed as he glided over to Candice’s station.

“Hello there, Miss Barker! How are you doing this fine morning?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Great, thanks for asking!” Candice responded with equal verve.

“Do you mind telling me about your granola?”

“Not at all. So I’m making one of my favorite things to have for breakfast, an açaí bowl.”

“That sounds, if I do say so myself, scrumptious! What’s going into this açaí bowl of yours?”

“Well,” Candice demonstrated, “Of course we’ve got our granola and açaí, but I’m throwing in some fresh fruit as well. I’ve got strawberries, bananas, and blueberries.”

“Wow! I’m sure this granola is going to pack quite a punch with it’s incredible flavor! Good luck, Candice!”

Candice thanked him, and Liam moved over to Tiffany. “And here we have the wonderful Tiffany Mutter! Let’s see what she’s preparing for the judges today!”

“Hey Liam,” Tiffany started. “I’m making a sour cherry granola, and I’m serving it with some chopped up fruit. I’ve got bananas, of course, but I’m also using nectarines and blackberries.”

“How interesting! But I’d think that you’d want to use yogurt, no?”

“Well, this recipe does pair extremely well with yogurt, but for a nice breakfast granola, the simpler the better. We’ve all felt that need to get out of the house quickly in the morning, so this recipe is delicious just with the granola and fruit. I don’t want to make it more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Amazing! You’ve definitely thought this through. Let’s hope the other competitors can stand up to you and your sour cherry granola.”

Liam went to interview the fifth contestant, Alyssa. “Good morning, Miss Frank! Please, tell me about your breakfast granola.”

“Good morning, Liam!” Alyssa said with a sunny smile. “I’m making a pretty simple, yet really tasty hazelnut and maple syrup granola for this challenge.”

“Maple syrup? I don’t think any other contestants are using that for their sweetener today. Most are using agave or honey. Why did you choose to use syrup?”

“Well, I’ve tested this recipe with all three of those sweeteners, but I like the subtle flavors of the maple syrup. Sometimes it’s just a personal preference, but I felt that for this particular granola, maple syrup was best suited for the job.”

“That’s delightful! I’m glad to hear that you’re well prepared for this cook-off.”

“Absolutely!” Alyssa agreed, and Liam approached last year’s winner.

“And now,” Liam said dramatically, “We have the reigning Granola Queen, Deborah Destiroy!”

Deborah laughed as she ripped off a piece of parchment paper and laid it on the baking sheet in front of her.

“Do tell, Deborah, how do you plan on living up to your title this year?”

“Yes, well, I’m choosing to do a bit of a cereal inspired granola. Of course, granola and cereal are pretty similar, so it isn’t too difficult to make a delicious granola served with milk.”

“I see!” said Liam, “Cereal is almost the essence of breakfast, so it makes sense to create a granola inspired by it! That’s very insightful, Deborah!”

“Thank you! It’s also very convenient. As Tiffany pointed out earlier, sometimes there is a rush to get going in the mornings, so it’s quite easy to prepare a large batch of the granola to have ready for a quick breakfast. All you need is to grab a bowl, some granola, and a bit of milk, and you’re out the door.”

“That does sound like quite the time saver! I’m sure the judges will be impressed by how suitable this granola is for breakfast!”

Finally, Liam reached the last table on the stage.

“And last but not least, Kelsey!” Liam cried, “How are you planning to make your mark with all of these great granolas we’ve seen so far?”

“Well, I’m doing something a little similar to Deb, but I am putting a bit of fruit in. You see, I really wanted to make the best tasting granola I could.”

“Ah, you’re adding flavor at the expense of convenience. That tradeoff makes perfect sense to me!”

Susan looked contemplatively at the ladies onstage as they baked their granolas, sliced their fruit, and poured their milk. After seeing all the other granolas presented, she felt that Tiffany had a very good chance at making it to the finals.

Liam continued to converse with the contestants until time ran out and the granolas had to be presented to the judges.

“Alright, time’s up!” he announced, “It’s time for judging! Sarah, could you please bring your granola up to the table?”

Sarah moved forward with three bowls of her honey granola and placed them in front of the judges. The panel looked down at their bowls, then at Sarah.

“Sarah, please tell us about your granola,” said one of the judges, Patricia Allen.

“I’ve made a honey granola for you today. There’s almonds, pecans, and walnuts,” she said nervously.

“Hmm,” began another judge, Noah Clark, “The presentation _is_ a bit bland.”

“Yes,” added the last judge, Carol Anderson added, “And this granola in general seems a bit simple.”

Sarah nodded as they tasted her granola.

“As I expected, it is quite plain,” said Noah, “This granola could really benefit from a bit of fruit, or maybe yogurt or milk.”

“I see,” said Sarah.

“Yes, it tastes nice-- it’s a good honey granola, but really, it does need a little something to lift it up a bit,” put in Patricia.

“Okay. Thank you, judges,” Sarah said.

The judges liked Hannah’s savory granola, but thought Candice’s açaí took the focus away from the actual granola too much. Tiffany’s granola was delicious, but Alyssa's hazelnut granola was a bit underdone. Deborah’s cereal inspired granola was praised for its wonderful textures and it’s concept, but poor Kelsey’s granola was a bit burnt.

The cook-off continued, each round just as exciting as the last, until it was time for the finalist selection. There would be an hour break, and Susan went to confer with Tiffany.

“Alright Tiffalicious,” Susan said immediately, “Remember, I need you to get me a list of _every_ ingredient Deborah uses.”

“I know,” replied Tiffany, “Don’t worry! I’ve got this, Susan.”

“Right,” Susan said, but it was impossible to tell whether she meant it to be sarcastic or not.

After the break was over, the finalists were announced. Exactly as Susan had predicted, Tiffany, Deborah, and Hannah advanced.

The first two rounds of the final passed as normal. However, Susan and Tiffany’s plan revolved around the very last round.

“And now!” Liam cried with an astounding amount of energy, considering how he had been speaking for the past nine hours. “The final challenge of the day, and then we’ll have this year’s Granola Queen!!”

The crowd cheered with a new wave of energy brought on by the prospect of finally being done with this absolute marathon of a cook-off. 

“Here, the competitors have a final chance to show off their skills with their signature granola! Ladies, you may begin in three… two… one! And they’re off!”

Tiffany had a particularly difficult task ahead of her. She had to not only make her own granola, but note everything that Deborah did and relay it to Susan discreetly. Fortunately, Tiffany had had a lot of practice making her Granola on the Go, which made it a little easier for her.

As Susan received Tiffany’s constant texts, she typed furiously on her own phone. The updates were coming in quick succession:

Oil salt oats

“grnla for kids”

agave 

whit choc

milk choc

cranberies 

pistacios 

walnuts 

sunflwr seed

egg white

brwn sugar

Susan’s eyes flew across her phone screen as she fabricated a whole story and recipe. She had no time to lose. Tiffany’s updates were still coming quickly, telling Susan all about Deborah’s technique and the steps she took to make her granola. Susan wrote and wrote.

“Ladies, your time is up!” declared Liam. Susan almost gasped. She barely had any time left. She typed away while Tiffany presented her Granola on the Go. Right as Hannah stepped up to have her Floral Garden Inspired Granola evaluated, Susan finished. She leaned back against her chair and let out a sigh of relief.

Finally, Deborah approached the judges table, smiling.

“Hello, Deborah,” greeted Carol, “What have you got for us today?”

“I’ve made for you my Granola for Kids recipe. There’s lots of sweet bits that the kids will love, but it’s balanced out by other saltier flavors as well. I’ve used agave syrup, and I made used egg whites as a binder to keep it in larger chunks, to make it easier for kids to eat.”

While Deborah continued sharing about her granola, Susan pretended to look surprised at something on her phone. Then, she squinted her eyes as she scrolled through the blog she had just updated, shook her head, then pretended to read it again. The snail next to her looked a little concerned, but didn’t say anything.

“What??” Susan whispered, quiet enough that it seemed like it was to herself, but loud enough to be heard by everyone around her.

“Are you okay?” the snail next to her asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s nothing, really,” Susan answered. “I just found this recipe earlier, and it seems to be similar to Deb’s. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

“Can I see?” asked the snail.

“Oh! Sure,” said Susan, as she tilted her phone screen so the other snail could read the text.

The snail hummed as she read through the page. “You’re right,” she said once she finished reading it, “It does seem remarkably similar.”

“Let me ask someone else,” Susan suggested, then proceeded to share the page with the other snail next to her. Soon, all the snails in the audience were whispering about Deborah. Finally, Susan saw a concerned snail go up to one of the cook-off coordinators. By this point, all of the finalists had presented their granolas and the judges were conferring.

Susan looked back at the coordinator, and watched as he moved over to the judges. The judges looked up, and the coordinator began explaining the situation. They all talked a bit more, then Noah said, “Deborah? Could you please come here?”

Deborah looked slightly confused as she approached the judge’s table once again. The audience watched, equally as confused, as the judges spoke with Deborah and the coordinator in hushed tones.

After about fifteen minutes of this, Patricia went up to the microphone in the middle of the stage. “In light of recent developments, Deborah Destiroy has been disqualified from the cook-off for plagiarism.”

The gathered snails immediately began speaking among themselves.

“Please!” Patricia said into the mic. “If I could just have your attention, please! Thank you. It seems that Deborah’s recipe has been copied from a small granola blogger by the name of xX_ThotDestroyer69_Xx. Full details will be released later.”

Though Patricia offered no more information, most snails already knew what had happened, thanks to Susan and Tiffany. Because the final challenge was supposed to be a “signature granola,” it would be the most serious to steal another snail’s recipe. Therefore, Tiffany and Susan had made it seem as if Deborah had used a recipe from a small blogger instead of creating her own granola.

After about another half hour of discussion, the judges stepped back into the center of the stage. “We have reached our decision,” Carol said, “The winner of this year’s granola cook-off is…”

Carol took an ungodly amount of time to build suspense before announcing, “TIFFANY MUTTER!”

The crowd went wild, of course. Susan smiled, not because she was happy for Tiffany, but because one of her plans had worked exactly as was expected.

Deborah would also have no idea Susan was involved, so she was completely safe from anything Deborah would try against Tiffany. Tiffany would help Susan with the whole Patty situation, too. Things were starting to look up.


	13. Sharon and A SHARONless World-less World

When Sharon awoke Monday morning, it was all she could do not to squeal with delight. She had dealt with this struggle for the past week, because every morning, she remembered that she was in charge of A SHARONless World. However, it was especially difficult not to squeal with delight this _particular_ morning, because it would be the first time in a week she would be in the office. 

Sharon silenced her alarm clock with a violent slam and jumped out of bed. She swiftly washed up, dressed, grabbed a granola bar (white chocolate cranberry), and glided out the door.

Immediately, she glided back _into_ the house, grabbed her keys, and slid back out. She got into her car, turned on the radio, and drove to work.

When she got to A SHARONless World’s main building, she was gratified to see that some employees and volunteers were already there. Sharon was filled with a warm sense of well-being. These snails gave up their own time to help others, and it was wonderful to see.

She slid to her office and opened the door. She jumped when she saw the snail sitting at her desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I startle you?” said the snail.

“It’s quite alright,” Sharon responded, though it really wasn’t. This snail was sitting in _her_ chair, at _her_ desk, in _her_ office! “I don’t think we’ve met yet. Are you a new volunteer?”

The new snail stood up and extended an eye. Sharon shook it as he said, “I’m Gavin Steel. I’m the executive director and president of A SHARONless World.”

Sharon faltered. “I’m sorry, _I’m_ the executive director and president. Don’t you know who I am? Sharon Hore, the founder?”

“Yes, I know who you are, but as of today, _I_ am the executive director and president.”

“Pardon me, but I don’t think you understand, I-”

Sharon was cut off, “No, Sharon, I understand completely. This non-profit is now under the control of the Community Board. Therefore, the president of the community board is higher up than the president of A SHARONless World, am I correct?”

“Well, yes, but I fail to see-”

Sharon was cut off yet again. She was finding it hard to maintain a professional manner.

“You see, the president of the Community Board, Patty Dawson, has appointed me executive director and president.”

“But… but… What?” Sharon sputtered, then shook her head. “Surely there must be some mistake. If we just- “

And once again, Sharon was cut off. “There’s no mistake, Sharon. If you must, you can speak with Ms. Dawson herself, but as you know, she is very busy. The president of the Community Board certainly has a lot to do.”

“No!” Sharon cried. She was having trouble controlling her breathing. “No! This can’t be right. No one should be able to do anything concerning this charity without first consulting the president!”

“I’m truly sorry, Sharon, but A SHARONless World is a subdivision of the Community Board, and therefore, Ms. Patty Dawson has the power to do anything she wants with it. I’m sorry you’ve lost your position, Sharon, but if you want to continue working with A SHARONless World, we would be glad to have you as a volunteer.”

“Did you just tell me to volunteer for my _own charity?!_ ” Sharon shouted, “Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit! How dare you do this! I’ve built this organization from the ground up, and it sure as hell wasn’t for your incompetent ass to waltz in and take it over! Mark my-”

And, for the fourth time that day, Sharon was cut off. “I’m so sorry, Sharon. Really, I am. But there’s nothing I can do about it,” Gavin said with a frown.

“There’s nothing you can do about it?! You can resign! You can talk to this bitch Patty! Is your ass jealous of all the shit that’s coming out of your mouth?! Get out of here!”

“You know what, Sharon? I’m sorry to say this, but I think it would be best for you to _not_ volunteer here. You see, at A SHARONless World, we believe in kindness and compassion. I can’t allow someone to volunteer here who is clearly against these values. I will have to ask you to please vacate the premises.”

For the final time that day, Sharon was cut off. She was cut off from her own charity. She couldn’t believe it. She stood open-mouthed as she was led from the building she had come to love. All these people she enjoyed so much. She was making a difference, and now… it was all gone.

She was thrown unceremoniously on the front steps. She got up, crying. She banged on the door. She screamed. She felt awful. This just could not be happening. The tears came faster and faster. She slammed the door over and over.

One of the volunteers who had just arrived approached her slowly. “Are you okay, Ms. Hore?”

Sharon whirled around and screamed, a sound of absolute anguish. Her eyes were puffy, and she reached her shaking eyes toward the poor snail. The volunteer shrieked and ran away.

Sharon remained there for the next hour, until she finally found the strength to pull herself from the ground and go home.

∾

For the rest of the day, Sharon was curled up on her couch taking sips from a bottle of wine. At first, she was just numb to the world. She was shivering all over. At some point, she fell asleep.

When she awoke, she had a terrible headache. She raised herself up and saw that she was still on the couch. She dragged herself to the light switch and flicked it on. She flinched as the bright light assaulted her senses. Sharon glanced at the clock. It read 3:42 A.M.

She slowly moved to her room and curled up in her bed, but she couldn’t sleep anymore. Her headache was terrible, and she couldn’t stop replaying the events of the previous day in her head.

“No, no, no,” she whispered to herself as she began to cry again. She couldn’t lose like this. She couldn’t. She couldn’t… she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t bring herself to even move again.

It would be another thirty-two hours until Sharon got out of bed. She heard the sound of the doorbell through her blankets, which she had piled over her head. She ignored it. However, after five minutes of incessant ringing, she went to see who it was.

“Sharon!” Barbara gasped. Sharon squinted at her through lidded eyes. “Oh my gosh!”

Barbara quickly rushed into the house and gave Sharon a hug. Sharon stood limply. “I heard what happened! No one’s seen you in two days, so I thought I would check on you! Oh, you poor thing!”

Barbara continued talking, but Sharon did nothing. She vaguely processed Barbara cleaning up, putting her at the table, and making her eat.

“Oh, Sharon, I didn’t know it was this bad…” Barbara continued. She had been talking nonstop since arriving, and it was doing nothing for Sharon’s headache.

Eventually, something Barbara said caught Sharon’s attention. “We’re all here for you, you know. If there’s anything I can do to help, you let me know right away! I got a sub for all my yoga classes today, so I’m free to help you do whatever. The yogis are also concerned for you, too. Of course, there’s not as many people coming to our classes, now that-”

“Barbara,” Sharon interrupted.

“Oh! You said something. You must be feeling better. What is it?”

“There is something you can do for me.”

“Anything, Sharon. I just hate seeing you like this. I don’t want anyone to have to be like this. Except, like, _maybe_ Heather. She might deserve it.”

“Actually, I’ll need the yogis’ help, too.”

“I’m sure they’ll be _glad_ to help. You know, I always tell my classes to help others as much as they can. Most of them already know you, too!”

Sharon took a deep breath. “I’m going to get A SHARONless World back.”

Barbara cheered. “Yay! I’m so glad you said that, because that Gavin Steel is, like, the _meanest_ snail! I went there looking for you, and you know what he did? He _shooed_ me away! Seriously! Of course I’ll help you get A SHARONless World back.”

Sharon smiled weakly at Barbara as she continued to talk Sharon’s ear off. She would fight back. She always told every SHARON that the key was persistence. No matter how long it took, Sharon would get back what was rightfully hers.


	14. Heather and the Surprise Holy Figure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is probably offensive. Also, it's probably offensive in ways that I'm not aware of yet.
> 
> However, if you've made it this far (which, so far, is nobody) then you probably don't care about being offended.

“Love yourself as you love others, for one cannot serve without loving oneself. Escargogo 3:8,” Karen read aloud.

“Thank you, Karen,” said Heather. “Now, this verse seems fairly straightforward, but when you think about it, there can be a lot of meanings.” 

Heather nodded as two latecomers walked in the door with their Bibles ready to study. As of late, many snails had begun to take an interest in self-improvement, and it was showing in Heather’s Bible study classes. Heather had had to triple the number of study sessions to accommodate everyone.

“So take a minute or two to discuss with your groups about what you think this verse means, and also think of all the ways we can love ourselves. Then, we can all share our thoughts,” Heather instructed.

As the snails talked among themselves, the door opened again. Heather turned to greet the new arrivals, but was surprised to see Ms. Patty Dawson walk in the door.

“Ms. Dawson!” Heather exclaimed, “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Hey there!” Patty said, “You’re Mrs. Bibly, right?”

“Yes, I am! But please, call me Heather. What brings you to our Bible study?”

“I’m actually just here on Community Board business. We’ve been inspecting all the public buildings this past month, and I’m pleased to report that the SnailHaven Christian Community Center is perfectly up to standard.”

“That’s great to hear!” Heather let out a small sigh of relief. After what Patty had done to Sharon, it was nice to know that Heather was on her good side. Come to think of it, she thought it might be a good idea to suck up a little bit more. “While you’re here, can I offer you something? We’ve got coffee and snacks.”

“Oh, thank you so much, but I’ve actually got to go,” Patty said, “But I love the work you’re doing here! Sorry for the intrusion!”

Heather did a cheerleading routine in her head. To know that Patty Dawson approved of her work! She turned back to the group, beaming.

“Okay, let’s bring it back, now,” Heather called, “Would anyone like to start?”

“I would!” said one of the younger snails, Sophia. “I think that this verse means that we need to have time to play, because playing makes us happy. I think Jesus wants all of us to be happy, even if that means we don’t spend all our time serving.”

“Wow, Sophia!” Heather praised, “That was a very good analysis! Good job! Does anyone else want to share?”

Another snail, Todd, who was around Heather’s age, raised his hand. “Well, I think it means that we should take good care of our bodies. I think Jesus is telling us to stay healthy by exercising, eating healthy, staying hydrated, and getting enough sleep. These are very important things that will enable us to help others.”

“Very insightful, Todd,” Heather acknowledged, “I do think that sometimes, we get so wrapped up in advancing spiritually that we tend to skip over our basic  _ physical  _ necessities.”

“Personally, I interpreted it as Jesus telling us to make sure we are happy with who we are,” said Mason, one of the older teens. “It’s hard to be kind or to care for others when we are not satisfied with ourselves.”

“That’s another wonderful take on this verse! Well, that’s all the studying we are going to do today, but we’ve also got some activities planned, so come on! Let’s move outside!”

Heather couldn’t stop smiling as she watched the devout Christians shuffle out the door. If there was a physical meter measuring her mood, it would be broken right now. There would be smoke pouring from it because her mood was so off the charts happy. That was how happy she felt.

∾

Today, Heather felt that it was her duty to share her happiness with others. Therefore, she volunteered to do a bit of work at the SnailHaven Animal Shelter. Heather didn’t have much experience with animals, but really, how hard could it be?

She glided through the door, and the first thing that hit her was the smell. Heather almost gagged. “What  _ is _ that?”

The lady at the shelter approached her looking a little confused. “What?”

“That awful  _ smell _ !” Heather clarified.

“Huh? There’s no smell. This is a goldfish shelter. If you think the fish smell bad, never get near a dog,” the lady laughed.

“It’s fine,” Heather said, even though in reality she felt as if she might faint. “I’ve come to do a bit of volunteer work.”

“That’s wonderful! We certainly could use all the help we can get. If you come with me, I’ll show you what needs doing today.”

Heather trailed behind the lady as she explained all that she needed to do. It certainly sounded like a lot of work. Heather was beginning to have second thoughts about this whole volunteering business, but she marched on. These poor goldfish needed help, and Heather was going to give it to them! It’s what Jesus would do.

So, Heather moved through the endless aisles of fish, sprinkling the right amount of food into each tank. After that, she almost broke her shell transporting the bowls into a wagon to take the fish for walks. Finally, she cleaned out their tanks. This was the most difficult job yet, but Heather managed. Somehow.

At the end of the day, Heather had almost collapsed from exhaustion.

“Hey, thank you so much for all your help today!” the lady said, “Would you be interested in helping out here again?”

Heather immediately snapped to attention. There was no chance in hell that she would ever do that again. “Oh, I’d love to, but I’m usually quite busy with other work. I just had some free time today and decided to volunteer here a bit.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” the lady replied, “But thanks anyway! Have a nice day!”

Heather trudged home and immediately collapsed into bed. Who knew helping others was so demanding?

∾

The next morning, Heather was overwhelmed by pain. She had never felt pain like this before. It permeated her very existence. It consumed every fiber of her being. She felt as if white-hot knives were being plunged into every inch of her skin. She was… sore.

However, she needed to drag herself out of bed and to Bible study. She had made a commitment. At least there would be no more hard physical labor. All the more reason to not do yoga! Who would bring this upon themself?

She arrived at the Christian Community Center and shuffled through the door. No one else was there yet. She groaned as she set out the papers she brought, and whined as she set up the activity for the day. She gasped as she walked to the kitchen to prepare the snacks, and moaned as she lowered herself into her seat.

Finally, all the snails arrived, and Heather was able to do something she was good at: studying the verses of the Bible. Today was her first advanced study session, so she was excited to show off how knowledgeable she was.

After all the necessary introductions, icebreakers, and prayers, Heather was ready to dive in.

“Let’s begin with this first verse: Slimell 3:4. Would anyone like to read it?”

After a moment of silence, one participant slowly raised his hand, and read, “Obey the law written by those of authority; if the law, though, is unjust, it should be followed, despite faults, but, then, fight in a way most peaceful and lawful, so as not to cause more harm, to correct any evils in the law.”

“Well, when you first read that, it does seem quite confusing, doesn’t it? I’ll give you all about five minutes to read through it again, and you all can discuss your thoughts. Then, if you want, you can share with the group.”

Heather smiled as she watched the snails began to talk to each other. She was so excited to go on a journey of learning with this group.

Heather’s smile widened as she saw Patty slide through the door. “Patty! Still doing some inspections?”

“No, actually,” Patty said, “I’m actually here to check out your Bible study sessions. You know, to see if I might be able to fund the Christian Community Center a bit more.”

Heather sat up a little straighter, despite her aching muscles. “That’s wonderful! I assure you, you won't be disappointed!”

Heather felt a new drive to help these people-- a drive to show what a good snail she was. She called for the group’s attention again.

“Okay, now that you’ve all had some time to go over these words, does anyone want to say what they thought of it?”

She waited for a few seconds, and when no one stepped forward, she said, “What if I share my thoughts first, and then you all can tell me what you think?”

This proposal was met with hesitant nods. These snails sure were shy, but soon they would be opening up. “Alright, this is what I think. I think it’s saying that we should follow the law, but that if a law is unjust, it is our right to fight to change it. Does anyone want to share now?”

The snails in front of her simply nodded a bit more, but Patty stepped forward. “Actually,” she began. Heather tensed.

“I’m sorry, Heather, but I believe that Jesus is telling us that no matter what, we need to follow the law. He is saying that even if it is wrong, we must follow it, but to lobby to change it in a legal way.”

Heather nodded. “I certainly see your interpretation, but I like to have everyone come up with their own ideas on what the Bible says.”

“I see. By the way, Heather, I thought I’d let you know that I’ve recently been ordained as a priest.”

Heather jumped, then instantly regretted it. She slowly lowered her aching body back down. “Sorry?”

“Yes, Heather. I am a priest now, a snail through which God speaks his word. I am connected to God, here to teach his faith. So, I understand why you might misunderstand this verse in such a way, but I just thought I would correct you.”

Heather gulped. She was now sweating. She would even prefer hard physical work over being in this situation. “Well, thank you for correcting me, and congratulations on your priesthood. I…”

“Don’t mind me,” Patty said with a devilish smirk. “Please, continue your study session.”

Of course, now, there was no way Heather could continue. “I’m… I don’t…” she stammered.

“Do you need some assistance, Heather?” Patty asked, “I’d be glad to lend my thoughts.”

“Of course! That would be wonderful,” answered Heather, biting her lip.

“Well…” Patty began, walking toward Heather’s seat.

For the rest of the session, Patty simply preached to the snails instead of letting them actually study the Bible. But, for some reason, the snails were loving it.

At the end, Patty said, “Heather, this was lovely! I would be so happy if you’d let me join your future study sessions!”

Heather, having no choice, answered, “For sure! We’d love to have you!”

And, just like that, Patty was now leading all the Bible study sessions. Heather had been defeated. She thought that God had been lending her help, but apparently Patty was more powerful than even God, because there was no way that this was His will.


	15. Tiffany and the Criminal Activity

Tiffany sat in the passenger seat of Susan’s car at the end of Sunville Street. She really wasn’t looking forward to what Susan had planned.

“Ready, Tiffalicious?” Susan asked.

“Um… why don’t we go over the plan one last time?” said Tiffany quickly. Susan rolled her eyes.

“Quit stalling.”

“No, really, I’m getting so nervous, I’m forgetting it.”

“Tiffalicious, it’s not hard. You go in, you find the order for the construction project, and you get out. Simple.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s literally breaking and entering.”

“Just get out of here.”

Tiffany sighed as she got out of the car. The plan was effective, of course, but terrifying. You had to be crazy to break into Patty Dawson’s house. Recently, there had been a decision to construct a statue of the founder of SnailHaven, Gregory Greggs. Tiffany was supposed to find important papers and bring them back to Susan. However, she had no idea what “important papers” looked like. Tiffany sighed again as she hovered beside the door.

“Patty might be back soon. You’ve got to go now,” Susan urged.

Tiffany pursed her lips and slowly moved toward Patty’s house.

“You know what?” she said, turning back to the car, “Let’s think of some other way we can make Patty look stupid.”

Susan slammed the door shut. “I helped you defeat Deborah, now you help me defeat Patty. Don’t you want revenge against her, too?”

There was no point arguing. Tiffany took a few deep breaths and went to Patty’s front yard. No one, Patty included, was expecting anyone to break into her house, so it was fairly easy. Tiffany clambered over the fence that led to Patty’s backyard, and simply opened the sliding glass door and entered the home. 

_ Holy shit,  _ she realized,  _ I’m actually doing this! _

She moved through the house incredibly slowly, even though she knew it was empty. She was somewhat familiar with the layout, seeing as she had visited Patty once before. Right now, she was in the kitchen. To the left, there was a large living space with a nice sofa and an absolutely huge TV mounted on the wall. She slid silently over the wood flooring and past a table with puzzle pieces scattered all over it. She surveyed the chairs set around the coffee table. She inspected all the doorways on the first floor. She found the bathroom, the garage, a closet, the washing machine, and the entrance to the basement.

Finding nothing on the ground level, she travelled up the stairs. Here, she found the bedroom and more storage space. She entered the bedroom and looked around. The only remarkable thing about it was how nice it was. If only Tiffany’s bathroom was as glorious as this one! If only her bed was as large and as soft as Patty’s! If only- Tiffany shook her head, and snapped out of her daydream. She had to focus.

She went back downstairs, confused. Where was all the important stuff? After another round of inspecting everything, she descended into the basement.

She flicked the light switch and gasped.

In the center of the room was a table strewn with papers and photographs. On the walls was a conspiracy theory-esque arrangement of pictures, notes, newspaper articles, and string connecting the papers. She started when she saw her own face among them. Even more disturbing was the great red “X” drawn over her photo.

She inspected her own image and followed the string attached to it. It led to a piece of paper with “PTA” written on it. Another string connected the PTA paper to a picture of Deborah. Deb, who was also crossed out, was also connected to “granola.”

Tiffany took a step back, finally realizing what was going on. Her eyes moved to the only uncrossed photo on the board: Barbara’s.

In a moment of clarity, Tiffany got out her phone and snapped dozens of pictures of everything in the room. Then, the plan completely forgotten, Tiffany raced out to tell Susan what she had found.

It was a testament to the greatness of Tiffany’s discovery that Susan did not make her go back to find the papers for the statue. After Tiffany shared everything, Susan sat still for a few minutes, deep in thought.

Tiffany fidgeted nervously for a while, until Susan finally said, “This is big.”

“No shit!” Tiffany exploded, “She’s trying to destroy all of us!”

“This is gonna be a lot harder than I thought…” Susan trailed off.

“What do we do?!” Tiffany was growing anxious. Patty almost had complete control over everything in SnailHaven. Soon, the entire town would bow to her will. What would become of this place?

“There’s only one thing we can do,” began Susan. She squeezed her eyes shut as if she were in pain, “We have to work together.”

“We  _ are  _ working together! Susan-”

“No, I mean…  _ all _ of us. We have to work together,” Susan choked out.

“You mean… the girls will work together to take down Patty?”

Susan made a jerky head movement that passed for a nod. “It’s the only way.”

Tiffany sat, silent.

“It’s the only way,” Susan said again.


	16. Barbara and the Intentional and Unintentional Failures

Barbara stood next to Sharon in the middle of the yoga studio. She shifted from side to side while Sharon stood motionless.

“Everyone, could I have your attention please?” Sharon called to the assembled yogis. All chatter died down as the snails turned their attention to Sharon.

“First of all, thank you for helping me with this. None of you were obligated to help, yet you all chose to assist me with A SHARONless World’s affairs.”

After a brief pause, Sharon said, “Now, the Community Board has complete control over A SHARONless World, and we need to find some way, any way, to get it back.”

“We could protest,” offered one of the yogis.

“Well, we know from experience that protests generally don’t do much.”

Barbara nodded, thinking back to the fiasco at SnailHaven Elementary.

“We could steal it back!” suggested another.

“Desserae, I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Sharon sighed, “But it isn’t a physical thing that can be stolen.”

“Oh. Right,” said Desserae.

“Why don’t you just start a new charity? You did it once,” said another.

“It’s not that easy,” explained Sharon, “It’s... complicated. I don’t want to go into it right now. And besides, it’s about more than just the charity.”

“Well, you could try to get all the snails working there to quit. Oh, wait, no, that wouldn’t work,” said Barbara, who, while sharing her idea, discovered the flaw in it. “Then there would be no charity left for you to get back.”

Sharon looked at her with a weird face.

“Actually, Barb, you might be onto something,” said Sharon. Barbara was quite taken aback at that. People didn’t usually praise her ideas.

“We wouldn’t want all the snails to quit… but, what if we made the charity do so badly that they would _have_ to give it back to me?”

Barbara stared blankly at Sharon for a few seconds, then said, “cool!”

Sharon explained a bit further. “You see, if the charity does badly, then they would have to start looking for reasons why. Then they would see that everything started going downhill as soon as I left. _Then,_ they would be faced with no choice but to give it back to me!”

There was a collective “ahhh” of comprehension from the yogis.

“I know what we have to do.” Sharon began laying out the plans. 

∾

The very next morning, they put their plans into action. The yogis would fake being SHARONs in need of assistance, but would pretend to never be cured. Therefore, it would seem as if the organization was doing poorly. And then, A SHARONless World would be ridiculed! It would be the laughingstock of the town! They would start slow at first, as to not draw suspicion. So today, a single snail approached A SHARONless World’s building on Main Street.

She stepped through the glass door and was greeted by a sunny smile from the receptionist, Pamela. “Hey! Welcome to A SHARONless World, where we make the world a better place, one SHARON at a time! How can I help you?”

“Oh!” cried Melissa, the first yogi. “It’s awful! I’m in such a dead end relationship it’s _painful!_ I just feel so _helpless!_ ”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place! Don’t worry, we’ll get everything sorted out. _Everyone_ who goes through our program comes out feeling satisfied!”

And so, Melissa began the de-SHARON-izing process. Thankfully, Melissa was intelligent, and a good liar. She spun mistruths from thin air like a magician conjuring rabbits from his hat. She told of the long-distance relationship she had been in for the past two years. She explained how she didn’t feel like herself, and how she wasn’t looking forward to seeing this snail anymore.

And thus began the long and arduous process of justice. Barbara felt glad that she could help Sharon out with something this important to her.

∾

Alas, the good feeling that came with helping others was not to last. Poor Barbara was clueless about what was going to happen to her. Barb didn’t know what Patty intended for the whole town. Poor Barbara, some might say, suffered enough at the hands of Heather, but Patty evidently thought otherwise.

Just like the others before her, Barbara was completely unprepared for what the day would hold. It began like any other. She completed her morning routine, then went to teach her yoga classes.

Sadly, due to Heather, the amount of attendees had shrunk considerably, but Barbara could always count on her good friends. She waved at Karen, Melissa, and Desserae on the way in. She had a quick chat with Emily and Julie. Always the optimist, she smiled at all the yogis despite the feeling of sadness in the studio.

She was about to begin her class when none other than Ms. Patty Dawson sailed through the door. Barbara waved good-naturedly at her and turned to her class, but Patty called her over.

“Barbara, I need to speak with you. Could you spare a moment?” Patty asked politely.

“Of course! Anything for the President of the Community Board. What’s up?” Barbara said cheerfully.

“Well, as you may know, the Board has been inspecting all the public buildings recently, and, well, I’m sorry to say that this yoga facility violates quite a few regulations.”

“Oh. So, what does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, Barb, but that means we’ll have to shut this place down.”

Barbara stared blankly at Patty, then said, “What? Why?”

“Well, to name a few, this building violates the SHBRaC code stating that no building can have a room larger than one thousand square feet next to a doorway shorter than eighty inches. The door leading to this room is only 78 inches. Also, it’s illegal to use any amount of foam in a building with ceiling fans, as specified by code 7.4H of the SHBRaC. Barb, I hate to say it, but there’s over a dozen violations.”

“But nothing like this has happened before!” Barbara protested.

“I’m afraid that’s due to a simple lack of competence from previous Board Presidents,” Patty explained, “It’s really a miracle that nobody’s gotten injured yet.”

“But… where will we practice yoga?” whispered Barb.

“Somewhere else, I guess. But definitely not here. It’s gonna take quite a bit of work and money to get this building into shape.”

“I don’t get it! What did we do?” Barbara’s confusion was palpable.

“Barbara, you should have been aware of these problems. It is the responsibility of the Yoga Instructor’s Association of SnailHaven to maintain this building. In failing to do so, you’ve left us with no choice.”

“I had no idea! We can fix this, I’m sure! Just give us a little time, and-”

“I’m sorry, but you were notified a week ago. We asked to see the plans and funds to solve these issues, but we received nothing. Now please, I must get on with my day.”

As Patty strolled out, Barbara stood for a moment, stunned, but she had to at least let her class know what happened. However, she barely managed to choke out, “class is canceled,” before she ran out, tears forming in her eyes.

With that final strike, Patty had defeated them all.


	17. Susan and the Knights of the Kitchen Table

Susan watched as Tiffany leapt out of the still moving car and raced into the yoga studio. She had insisted that they warn Barb before Patty came for her. Susan waited in the car for only a few seconds, but judging from Tiffany’s downcast expression as she exited the facility, they didn’t make it in time. They were probably infiltrating Patty’s house at the same time Barbara was having to deal with her.

“Too late,” said Tiffany softly.

“It’s alright,” Susan said, “Let’s go get everyone and explain. We should do it as soon as possible.”

“Right,” Tiffany said, taking a deep breath, “Let’s go.”

Tiffany got into the car and they drove off.

They went to Sharon’s house first. Since Sharon and Susan weren’t on the best of terms, Tiffany went to get her. Susan watched from within the car as Tiffany rang the doorbell. Sharon opened the door, and she saw Tiffany explaining the situation. Then, Susan felt the glare of Sharon’s narrowed eyes. Tiffany continued talking, but Sharon didn’t take her eyes off the window.

After a bit of persuading, Sharon followed Tiffany back to the car.

“Susan,” she spat.

“Sharon,” Susan said with only slightly less hostility.

Sharon entered the car. Thankfully, they were driving Tiffany’s minivan, so there was plenty of space. After a few awkward moments of silence, Sharon said, “So, Patty’s been fighting against all of us this whole time?”

“Yeah,” answered Tiffany, twisting around to face her. “It’s crazy. She’s got like charts and stuff. Here, I’ll show you.”

Tiffany pulled out her phone and started swiping through all the pictures she took, pointing things out and discussing with Sharon. Susan remained silent.

This whole situation was disturbing to Susan. For one, how had she not realized what Patty was doing? It should have been completely obvious. She should’ve known the moment she lost the election. But the thing that really bugged her was how much _power_ Patty had. She had managed to take over everything that mattered to all of them. Susan always thought she was the one with the ability to ruin everyone’s life if she wanted to, but this showed her just how powerless she was.

Susan shook her head as they pulled up in front of Heather’s house. There was no time to think about these things. The only thing that mattered right now was stopping Patty.

Once again, Tiffany ran out to get Heather, leaving Susan alone with Sharon. Sharon was the first to break the silence.

“Susan, I…” she started. She closed her mouth and began again. “I’m sorry I tried to take the presidency from you. I know how much it meant to you… and now Patty has it… And I’m sorry I said those things about Johnny, too.”

“It’s fine. We broke up a week before that anyway. And I’m…” Susan trailed off. “Christopher never really cheated on you.”

“I figured as much. I thought about it, and, well, who would cheat on me?” she laughed weakly.

After a pause, Susan said, “At least you like the charity I forced you into.”

“Yes! Really, it’s all thanks to you I found what I _actually_ love doing.”

Susan nodded. They sat in silence until Tiffany came back with Heather. “Alright. Who’d like to explain the whole thing again?”

∾

Susan, Sharon, Barbara, Heather, and Tiffany were gathered around Susan’s kitchen table, all clutching hot mugs of coffee. Barbara was still recovering from the shock of losing her yoga studio, so Sharon sat next to her, comforting her.

“I’m sorry,” Heather said after sitting down, “I _still_ don’t understand. How did she manage to defeat _all_ of us?”

“She planned _everything_ out,” Tiffany answered. “But there’s still a lot we don’t know. For instance, did she rig the election? What will she do now that she’s taken everything from everyone? Also, we don’t know if there’s anyone working with her.”

“I doubt it,” input Susan, gesturing at one of the pictures from Tiffany’s phone they’d printed out. “There’s only one chair by the table. It seems like she spends a lot of time here, so if she was working with someone, I’d expect there to be more chairs.”

Barbara’s puffy eyes grew wide. “Wow, Susan! I never would’ve noticed that.”

“Still,” Susan said, “It’s not definite. There’s a possibility.”

“Well, all I care about is how we stop her,” Sharon declared.

“Right. But that’s gonna be pretty hard. We need to take back the Community Board presidency, the PTA presidency, A SHARONless World, my Bible study classes, and... the yoga studio,” Heather said, biting her lip. “That’s a lot.”

“I think that the best way is to publicly discredit her,” responded Sharon. “Then we could take everything else on the basis that she’s untrustworthy. Maybe she didn’t actually become a priest in the right way?”

Heather and Sharon turned to Tiffany. “What? Why are you looking at me?” Tiffany asked, “Why would I know?”

Susan nodded. “That’s something we need to find out. Are there any other obvious things to consider?”

“Well, if she did rig the election, that would be pretty big,” noted Tiffany.

“Hey, Sharon and I already have a plan to get A SHARONless World back. Maybe we could use that!” Barbara added.

“I’m not sure about that,” Sharon said, then explained what they had in store. “It would be seen more as Gavin’s fault than Patty’s.”

“Still, we should keep that going,” instructed Susan, “We need everything we can get. Anything else?”

“Maybe the yoga studio wasn’t actually violating any regulations!” Barbara said hopefully.

“To be honest, Barb,” said Sharon, “It probably was. I’m sorry, but I’ve seen that place, and, well…”

After no one said anything more, Susan continued, “Okay. Sharon and Barbara have got the SHARONless World thing going, but we need to look into those two other things.”

Tiffany pulled out a marker. She wrote “CB election rigged?” and “priest?” on some poster paper. “I can look into those. Anyone want to help me?”

“I can help with the priest thing,” offered Heather.

“And I’ll help with the election,” Susan said.

Tiffany nodded and wrote their names down.

“But…” Barbara said slowly, “What if she didn’t do anything wrong? Then what?”

“Then we come up with another plan,” said Sharon, her face full of determination.

Everyone around the table stopped and nodded. Sharon was right. There would be no failure. This concerned all of them, and none of them would let what Patty did go.


	18. Sharon and the Re-Infiltration

Sharon stood up and stretched. It was incredibly late-- scratch that, it was incredibly early now, and she’d been working nonstop. Tiffany was still at it, doing a bit of research on her laptop, and Susan was sifting through papers. Heather was asleep on Susan’s couch, and Barbara was sleeping curled up in an armchair.

Sharon rubbed her eyes. First, she had worked on her plot to get A SHARONless World back, then she’d sent some emails to some trustworthy snails to see if they wanted to help. After that, she and Susan had thought up some ways to defeat Patty if she really did do everything legitimately. It wasn’t easy at all. Susan kept pointing out small flaws in the plans that Patty would be sure to exploit. Patty had demonstrated that she was remarkably clever. They could leave nothing to chance-- they had one shot at this. Once Patty figured out what they were doing, she would not hesitate to destroy them once and for all.

She started to tidy up the mess of papers and writing utensils on the table. They had Heather and Barbara each look through a list of all the residents in SnailHaven and determine if they were loyal to Patty, possible allies, or anything else. They were barely a quarter of the way through.

“Guys,” Sharon said gently, “It’s almost two. We should really get some rest. There’s no defeating Patty if we’re sleep deprived.”

At this, Tiffany pushed her laptop away and rubbed her eyes. Susan sat back, laid down her pencil, and shook out her eyes. Sharon reached for Susan’s papers to put them in order.

“I’ve been thinking,” Susan yawned, “We really need to get back into her basement, because we need to know what she’s got planned next. There’s nothing in any of these pictures that give any clue.”

“Oh  _ god, _ ” Tiffany moaned, “Again? It was terrifying breaking in last time. We seriously have to do it  _ again _ ??”

“I think so. You never know, she may be planning to give everything back.”

“What?” Sharon cut in, “Why on earth would she do that?”

“I don’t know. Because she doesn’t want all the responsibility of these things, and because all she wanted was to make us feel bad?”

“That seems unlikely,” said Tiffany.

“Well,” responded Susan, “That’s just one example. There could be any number of things she’s planning, and I’d like to know exactly what’s coming next.”

Tiffany groaned. “And I suppose you’re going to say we should do it tomorrow.”

“Well, today would be ideal, but I guess tomorrow is okay too.”

Tiffany dropped her head onto the table. “Fine. But someone has to come with me.”

“I never said  _ you _ had to do it,” Susan pointed out.

“Oh,” Tiffany said, looking up.

“But you’re right, it makes sense for you to go. You’ve already seen it and are familiar with the place.”

Tiffany’s forehead hit the table with a  _ thunk _ . Sharon laughed. “I’ll go with you, Tiff Tiff.”

“Thank you,” came Tiffany’s muffled voice.

“And I’ll be there too, like last time, in case Patty comes back while you’re in there,” reassured Susan.

“Great,” Sharon said, “Sounds like a plan.”

∾

Sharon had been confident in their plan the day before, but now that she actually sat in the car on Sunville Street, she was starting to have second thoughts.

“Alright, Patty’s at a Community Board meeting right now, so you should have plenty of time.”

“Right,” Tiffany replied, “Ready, Sharon?”

“Um…” she started to say.

“Great. Let’s go.”

They got out of the car and walked down to Patty’s house. Sharon watched Tiffany easily hop over the fence, then followed slightly less gracefully.

“How are we going to get in?” Sharon murmured.

“The door’s unlocked,” Tiffany whispered back.

That didn’t make much sense to Sharon, but she wasn’t going to question it. Tiffany slid open the door and stepped into the house, then beckoned for Sharon to follow.

She trailed behind Tiffany as they moved through the house, then took the stairs down to the basement.

“Okay,” Tiffany muttered, “We’re looking for what she’s planning to do next.”

“Tiff Tiff, I  _ know _ why we’re here. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Right,” said Tiffany apologetically as she looked through the papers on the table.

Sharon turned to examine the filing cabinets by the wall. She opened a few drawers and peered inside, becoming disheartened at the sheer number of files within, but she looked through each and every one of them.

Sadly, none of them had anything to do with what happened next. Most of them were files on the people living in SnailHaven, and some didn’t even have anything to do with SnailHaven at all.

Out of curiosity, Sharon opened one labelled “Shellfield.” As she read through the pages, her eyes grew wide.

“Tiff Tiff,” she called, “Come look at this.”

Tiffany started across the room when they heard something from upstairs. Sharon froze. She looked at Tiffany, who was standing stock still as well.

Patty had entered the house.

“What do we do?” Sharon whispered anxiously.

“I don’t know!” Tiffany replied, “Susan was supposed to keep Patty out of the house.”

At that point, they heard a sharp knock and the squeak of the front door opening once again. Sharon strained to make out the words.

She heard Patty’s voice first. “Susan! Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh, yeah,” came Susan’s response. “Sorry to bother you. I’ll try to hurry up and  _ get out _ of your hair.”

Sharon stood up straighter. “Come on!” She grabbed a few more files and started climbing the stairs silently. Tiffany followed.

They stood behind the door leading onto the first floor. Sharon cracked it open. Thankfully, Patty was looking at Susan, who was standing outside.

“Well, since you’re here, can I offer you something to drink?” Patty turned to let Susan in. Sharon quickly shut the door.

She waited until she heard Susan say, “Oh, no, really, I just need a couple minutes. I just have a couple questions about the board.”

Sharon opened the door again, and saw Patty facing Susan. She pushed it all the way open and slowly stepped out. Tiffany stepped through and softly shut it. They were completely exposed now. All Patty had to do was turn around.

“I was looking through the rules of the board and noticed this little bit here.” She pulled out a piece of paper and Patty leaned forward to take a look. Sharon sped up. She had to admire how Susan kept her eyes on Patty despite being able to see Sharon and Tiffany behind her.

“As you can see, it states that anyone who has served on the board as president or vice president for four or more years has the rights to a spot on the board as a member, even if not voted on.”

“Oh! Could I take a look at that?”

At this point, Sharon and Tiffany were back in the kitchen. Tiffany opened the sliding glass door.

“Hmm. Susan, this is actually an outdated list of rules.”

“Is it?”

Once they were no longer in the house, they ran to the fence. Once again, Tiffany had no trouble making it over, but Sharon had a bunch of papers in her eyes.

“Tiff Tiff!” she hissed, “Take these!”

She passed them over to Tiffany and pulled herself on top of the fence. As she dropped to the ground, she lost her balance and accidentally kicked the wooden gate, making a loud  _ whack _ .

Sharon heard the conversation within the house stop.

“What was that?” Patty said.

“Patty, please, it was probably nothing,” came Susan’s voice. Sharon once again was impressed at how her voice sounded not at all concerned, but mildly annoyed and impatient.

Sharon and Tiffany sprinted as fast as they could back to the car, where they sat, panting. A couple minutes later, Susan returned.

“Oh my god!” Tiffany gasped, “I thought you said she was at a meeting!”

“Turns out it got cancelled,” Susan said as she began driving away, “Did you at least get something useful?”

Sharon nodded and passed the files forward. Susan glanced at them as she drove.

“Alright,” she said, “Let’s take a look at these when we get back.”

Sharon’s heart was going a hundred miles an hour, not just because they’d almost been caught, but what she had found in those files. She tried not to think too hard about what she’d uncovered.


	19. Heather and the Studies in Theology and History

Susan, Sharon, and Tiffany were off breaking into Patty’s house again, which meant that Heather was left alone with Barbara.

The instant they were gone, Barbara began yammering away. _Lord give me strength,_ Heather thought. Barbara seemed to think that she and Heather were friends now because they were working together, which meant that Heather had to deal with a nonstop stream of one-sided conversation.

Heather, of course, still disliked yoga, and was not yet ready to forgive Barbara, especially since Barbara was making it so much easier to hate her. Heather tried to tune her out, but her voice was just so _annoying_.

“I mean, like, this is terrifying and all, but I can’t help but feel a little excited, you know? I feel like a secret agent or something, working to defeat the bad guy. Ah! I can’t concentrate!”

Heather couldn’t concentrate, either. She was trying to make her way through a list of every SnailHaven resident, which was difficult enough without Barbara talking the whole time.

“I wonder how Tiffster and Sharon are doing. They’re probably fine, right? Tiffster was fine last time, so they’ll be fine this time. But like, I can’t help but be a little nervous for them! They’re _breaking into_ someone’s _house_! That’s crazy! Ah! I’m so glad I’m not the one doing that.”

Barbara eventually quieted down and looked at her papers. Heather could finally get something done.

“Ahhh!” Barbara squealed. Heather put her head in her eyes. “The next person on this list is Caroline! That’s so funny! I saw her like literally yesterday. Oh my gosh, I _love_ Caroline! I’m always telling her that she should join yoga, because she’d be so good at it, you know? But she’s always so busy with her fencing, which is actually, like, really cool. I think she’s going to the Olympics or something!”

“Barbara!” Heather interrupted. “Please. We should really get some work done.”

“Right!” Barbara picked up her pencil again. “You’re right. Work!”

Almost immediately, she set it back down again. “Oh my gosh, wait, I just have to tell you _one more_ thing. So-”

“Barbara!” Heather was almost crying. “Can you be quiet for _five minutes_?!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Barbara looked down. “Is it because you’re still mad at me?”

“No! It’s just that you _won’t stop talking_! Well… no! I just want a little bit of quiet! It’s… good for the soul.”

“You _are_ mad at me!” Barbara accused, “I already told you I was sorry!”

It was true that she had apologized. Multiple times, even, but the worst part was that she didn’t even need to be sorry. Heather had realized this one day when she was doing a new exercise she had read about on her favorite blog, The Soulful Christians. She was instructed to think about the people who had done her wrong, and try to understand their actions. 

While doing this, Heather began to see that Barbara really hadn’t done anything specifically against her. She was just defending what she loved. Heather was the one who was trying to take yoga away from schools, and was trying to stop people from going to classes.

Of course, she had been trying her best to save all those snails. Even though it might cause them sadness in the present, not doing yoga would bring them great happiness down the line. However, Heather had begun to question the steps she had taken. Was it really okay for her to forcibly take away part of their lives? She knew it was for the best, but would they really heal if they didn’t make the choice themselves? 

All of these questions had created a conflict within Heather, so she had resolved to never do that exercise again and to forget all about it. She hadn’t thought about any of that until yesterday, when Barbara had come to her and apologized.

She steeled herself for what she was about to do. “Barbara…” she stopped. Her throat had suddenly gone dry.

She tried again. “Barbara, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! Don’t worry! I’ll try to be a bit quieter. I also get it if you’re still mad at me.”

“No!” Heather shook her head. “I’m sorry I tried to take yoga away, but I was trying to _help_ you!”

“Heather, it’s fine! I _know_ you wouldn’t do those things because you were trying to hurt me! But I love yoga, and I think you should let me do it. Okay. I’ll be quiet now.”

Heather looked back down at her papers. She started to work again, but her mind was awhirl with thoughts of yoga, Christianity, and ethics. She shook her head. She would figure all this out after they defeated Patty. There was no point in making plans for the future when there might not be a future at all.

∾

As soon as Susan, Sharon, and Tiffany got back, Barbara leapt from her seat and sped over to them.

“What did you find?” she asked. Heather followed her.

“Sharon’s gonna explain now,” Susan answered. She took a small stack of files and placed them on the table.

Once everyone was gathered around the table, Sharon reached for the first file. “I already looked at them,” she said shakily, “So I’m just going to summarize.”

She sat for a few moments, but no one prompted her to begin. They were all itching with curiosity, but even Barbara realized that Sharon needed a moment.

Sharon took a deep breath. “These are files she’s kept from towns and cities before coming to SnailHaven. Basically, she’s done this before. Multiple times. We already know most of her process, but I’ll say it again. She comes in from nowhere, observes for a while to find the most prominent people with the most to lose, then makes life miserable for everyone. After she’s done that, she just leaves. Here’s the scary bit, though. She makes sure the place never recovers.”

She paused here, and everyone leaned forward.

“After she’s taken everything from everyone, she does something awful to the place. One time she single-handedly started an economic crisis. Another time she managed to unleash a plague. She even burned down another town. I don’t know what she’s got planned for SnailHaven, but it’s not going to be good.”

Heather felt her jaw drop. She heard Barbara gasp. Tiffany covered her mouth, and Susan simply sat there, stoic as ever.

Sharon sorted through the files. “She’s been to a lot of places. We’re just one in a long line. Look. This place was beneath a dam. She rigged explosives on it and the town flooded. If we don’t stop her now, so many more snails will suffer. This is bigger than just us.”

Heather felt a little lightheaded. How could anyone be so heartless? Patty would make the residents of a little town suffer for a while, then wipe the whole place out?

“Well, then,” said Tiffany defiantly. “It’s a good thing we’re here.”

Tiffany spoke with confidence, but Heather wasn’t feeling it. The whole thing seemed hopeless. Patty had done this to countless other places, why would SnailHaven be any different?

“Right!” Barbara agreed.

“We can do this,” echoed Sharon.

Susan nodded.

Heather closed her eyes and nodded as well. They had to at least try.


	20. Barbara and the Questions of Mortality

Barbara was sitting in Sharon’s enormous living room with a bunch of the other yogis. They had all gathered around her coffee table, using Sharon’s house as a base since the yoga studio had been taken away. So far, Melissa was the only one to go to A SHARONless World. According to Sharon’s plan, though, another snail would begin today, and another tomorrow.

Right now, Melissa was talking about what things she did during the de-SHARON-izing process while Sharon flipped through her notes.

“...and they said I should only eat vegetables for a week,” Melissa shared.

“Ah!” Sharon exclaimed, “They changed that. If you were  _ really _ a SHARON, that would do nothing for you. You should be eating only  _ green foods  _ for a week. We can make use of this. Maybe we can make it seem as if this instruction was bad for your physical health?”

They continued on, until Sharon snapped her notebook shut and called for everyone’s attention. “Alright, as you all know, someone else has to begin posing as a SHARON today. According to my notes, it should be Emily.”

Emily gave a thumbs-up. “I’m ready.”

“Okay. Let’s just go over your story one more time and go through some practices to make sure you can think fast and don’t slip up.”

“Right.”

“So, Emily,” Sharon began, acting as a SHARONless World worker, “Tell me about your problems. You’re in a dead end relationship, yes?”

“I am!” Emily said, slipping easily into the role of a distressed SHARON. “My boyfriend, Keith, just doesn’t seem to  _ understand  _ me!”

“One sec,” Melissa interrupted, “ _ My _ imaginary boyfriend’s name is Keith.”

“Oh! Good catch, Melissa,” praised Sharon, “We need something else…”

“Kevin?” Emily suggested.

“Perfect. Okay, continue.”

Emily nodded. “My boyfriend, Kevin, just doesn’t seem to  _ understand  _ me!”

“Hmm,” Sharon replied, “I think I know what you mean. And what makes you think this?”

“Well he tries to do nice things for me sometimes, but it never really seems meaningful, you know?” Emily pouted, “And whenever I ask him to do something, he’ll act like he understands and all, but then never actually does anything! It’s so annoying!”

“Do you mean small things, like emptying the dishwasher, or bigger things to do with his behavior in general?”

“The second one. I… he’s sweet and all, but… I don’t know. I’m not sure if I really  _ like  _ him.”

“I see.”

“And I feel like part of it is because I’m not trying hard enough!”

“Emily,” Sharon said soothingly, reaching out to hold her eye, “You  _ are _ doing the best you can. Being  _ here  _ is proof of that.”

Emily took a shaky breath and nodded quickly.

“Okay. I think we’ve got enough to start treatment,” Sharon said, “And I think your story and acting are perfect.”

“Great!” said Emily.

As Emily got ready to head over to A SHARONless World headquarters, Sharon plopped down next to Barbara on the couch. “What’s up?” she asked.

Barbara just shrugged. There was a lot that was up, but she didn’t really feel like sharing today.

Sharon tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”

Barbara hesitated, then shook her head.

“Okay,” Sharon shrugged, then pulled out her phone.

Truth was, something  _ was  _ wrong. Ever since they had all gathered to try to get rid of Patty, she had felt useless. Sure, she had been working through the list of SnailHaven residents, but Heather had done the same thing, and had done it better! Also, Heather was doing research on how to become a priest. Barbara had nothing to do except to try to help Sharon with her plot.

These thoughts made Barbara contemplate what she was really doing with the rest of them. Susan and Sharon had started laying out a master plan, and so far everyone had a major role-- everyone  _ except  _ for Barbara.

The more she thought, the more she realized what she needed to do. She needed to find some way to prove her worth to the group. She stood up.

“Sharon, if you’ve got everything under control here, I’m going to head back to Susan’s place,” she said.

Sharon blinked. “Alright.”

“See you,” Barbara said over her shoulder, moving out the door.

∾

Barbara sat hunched over her computer screen, pencil in eye. She had gotten through the remaining quarter of her list of residents in less than two hours, and then moved straight into doing a bit of her own research. There had to be at least  _ one  _ thing that the rest of them overlooked. And Barbara would be the one to find it.

She scrolled through the endless pages of point eight text, trying desperately to find something to use against Patty. At one point, Tiffany had brought her a cup of coffee, but it sat to the side, untouched and cold. Barbara needed to focus.

She had looked through dozens of official web pages on different laws, which were all unnecessarily complicated and needlessly difficult to decipher. This change in her demeanor was so sudden and drastic that the others didn’t know what to do. Sharon and Tiffany came over to see what was going on, but Barbara quickly dismissed them and got back to her research.

At one point, a thought occurred to Barbara. She didn’t share it with the rest of them yet right away, though. She was wondering why they didn’t just show the papers they had stolen from Patty’s house to everyone. Wouldn’t that be incriminating enough? While contemplating this, she realized that this though  _ must  _ have crossed the others’ minds. Why, then, was it not viable?

As she pondered this, she jotted down another point in her notebook. She bit her lip, thinking. Why couldn’t they expose Patty now? She tried to imagine what would happen if they actually did that. Would Patty dismiss it? Of course. There would be no reason to simply confess. Then what? Then… well… she was very influential, so she could probably convince everyone that Barbara and the girls were lying. She thought back to when she was going through the list of residents. Most of the snails trusted Patty.

That explanation satisfied Barbara, but she had had another thought-- a thought that she was not proud of thinking. It would be a quick and uncomplicated end to all of this, and she was sure that the rest of the girls would go to any lengths to defeat Patty.

Eventually, she had to know. She got up and sought out Sharon, who was sitting outside sipping a glass of wine.

“Sharon?” she said, stepping out of the yurt. “I’ve got a question.”

“Sure, Barb,” Sharon answered, patting the empty seat next to hers.

“Well,” Barbara said, sitting down, “You say we want to defeat Patty, and without too much complication, right? Well, uh…”

“Yeah?” prompted Sharon.

“Why don’t we just… uh… like…”

“What?”

“You know, like, kill her or something? I dunno, I was just wondering.”

Sharon let out a small laugh. “Well, first of all, who would want to do that to someone else? Even to someone like Patty. I just don’t think that would be a very enjoyable experience.”

Barbara nodded sagely.

“Also, I just assume that Patty’s physically powerful enough to resist an attack, and smart enough to detect a simple trap.”

“Ah.”

They sat for a moment, then Sharon asked, “So, what was up with you suddenly hyper focusing?”

“Um… I just wanted to help a little more.”

Sharon raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press further. They sat in silence together, looking out at the dark, empty street.

Barbara smiled. Tomorrow she would share what she had found, and it was something big, too.


	21. Tiffany and the New Recruits

Tiffany was in a good mood, because she barely had to see her kids for the last few days. Poor Jay, though, had to take care of them the whole time Tiffany was gone. It was going about as well as Tiffany expected, but she didn’t really care right now. She had very important things to do.

It was integral to their plan that they had a few more people on their side, and it was up to Tiffany to go recruit them. The first person on her list was Gavin Steel. She woke up pretty late, in her own house instead of on Susan’s couch, and moved through her blissfully empty house, getting ready. It was a bit messy, though; she would have to clean up tomorrow. But today, there were more pressing matters at hand. She grabbed her insulated cup filled with coffee and drove out to Main Street.

She parked out front of A SHARONless World at 10:30. She walked up to the reception desk and asked, “Hey Pamela, could I talk to Gavin?”

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, already pulling up a schedule.

“No,” Tiffany said, “But it’s pretty important.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t meet him without an appointment.”

This was so typical. Tiffany just passed by the desk and moved toward Gavin’s office.

“What are you doing? I said you need an appointment.”

“Bitch, what are you going to do? Stop me?” Tiffany pushed the door open.

“As a matter of fact, I will! I can call-”

The door closed behind Tiffany. Gavin looked up from his computer screen.

“Hm,” he said, “You’re the first to make it past the receptionist. I thought she’d at least last a little longer than  _ that _ . That was just pathetic.”

“I’m a woman with a mission,” Tiffany dismissed, “I’ll cut right to the chase. I need you to do something really simple for me.”

“So far, you’ve given me no reason to do anything for you.”

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Let me just ask you this. Why did you choose to become the executive director and president of A SHARONless World?”

“Why? Because Patty thought I’d be a good fit,” Gavin played along, “And because I care about others.”

“Wrong. You’re here for the money,” Tiffany corrected.

“Oops. You caught me.” Gavin shrugged. “So what?”

“I’ve got good news for you. Do one little thing for me, and I’ll give you… this.” Tiffany dropped a case full of cash on his desk.

Gavin raised his eyebrows. “And why would this little thing be worth so much?”

“Because it’s important. Just take the money.”

“On principle, I have to be skeptical of this offer.”

“Listen, you don’t have to help out, we can do it without you. Trust me, it will be much less of a hassle for you  _ and _ me if you just cooperate,” Tiffany bluffed.

Gavin pulled the case toward him. “Alright, whatever. What do I have to do?”

Tiffany smiled. Easy. “Allow me to explain.”

∾

Tiffany pulled out of A SHARONless World’s parking lot and drove a few buildings down to town hall. Thankfully, the receptionist was not present. She knew, however, that the treasurer for the Community Board  _ would _ be here today, as she was a diligent worker.

She knocked politely on the treasurer’s door and waited for a response before entering. The treasurer was a young lady named Inga Copps. She had been treasurer for the past two years, and pretty much everyone approved of her. Sadly, though, she was quite loyal to Patty, seeing as Patty was the president of the Board.

“Hello? Sorry to interrupt,” Tiffany apologized, stepping in the room, “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Tiffany Mutter.” She extended an eye.

“Oh!” said Inga, rising to shake her eye, “It’s very nice to meet you, Tiffy Tiff.”

“Again, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I have some important information regarding the Board.”

“Oh?” Inga said inquisitively, then gestured to a seat.

Tiffany sat. “Well, as you know, Susan has been president for the past five years, until Patty came along one year and won. Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

“Well, to be honest, I thought that Susan could’ve done a better job, and I do think that Patty is doing well.”

Tiffany frowned. “But you don’t think it’s at all weird that Patty came out of nowhere, with barely any supporters, and then managed to win the whole thing?”

“Not really. I think everyone realized that she’d be a much better leader than Susan.”

Tiffany had to resist rolling her eyes. This Inga had a really warped idea of what influenced people’s decisions.

“Well,” Tiffany continued cautiously, “I think I have something that may surprise you.”

Inga looked at her expectantly, but Tiffany paused. She then added, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to warn you again. It’s going to be very hard to believe.”

“Tiffy Tiff, it’s alright. I’d like to see what you’ve got to show me.”

Tiffany pulled out a few files they’d taken from Patty’s basement. “Well, Patty isn’t quite who you think she is.”

She allowed Inga to look through the files for a minute. She flipped through the pages, brows furrowed.

“What is this?” Inga eventually said.

“Well,” Tiffany said gently, “Patty doesn’t have very good intentions for the Board.”

“No, this is far too extreme. Patty could never do anything like this.  _ Nobody  _ could ever do anything like this.”

Tiffany pursed her lips. Once again, what an inaccurate view of snailkind. “I know. It seems insane. But I’m telling you, it’s the truth.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish by showing me this, but I refuse to believe this.”

“I’m showing you this because I need your help. To stop Patty.”

“No, I  _ trust _ Patty. She only has SnailHaven’s best interests at heart. She’s shown me that time and time again.”

“I’m telling you, Inga, it’s all a ruse. She just wants to destroy SnailHaven”

“But there’s absolutely no reason for her to be doing this. I’m sorry.” She gathered up the files and handed them back to Tiffany.

“I realize this is very difficult, but it’s your duty to correct this. You’re willingly closing your eyes to the truth, and accepting a lie. Everyone has to do their part to make the world a better place, and this is where you can help.”

Inga sat silently, looking down at her lap.

“And it might be easier to just accept this story that Patty has told, like some agreeable dream, but we have to do what is right, even if it’s not easy.”

“But… she’s the  _ president _ …” Inga muttered.

“If the rulers of a nation are corrupt, it is the responsibility of the citizens to correct it, no?”

“Well, I mean…”

It seemed to be working. Thank god Susan had coached her on what to say. She’d be failing miserably otherwise.

“Please, Inga, help me.”

After a long pause, she finally whispered, “I suppose.”

Tiffany let out a sigh of relief before she began to lay out the plan.

∾

With Gavin and Inga down, Tiffany only had one more snail to bring to their side. However, she would probably have the hardest time with  _ this  _ snail.

Tiffany sat in her car outside of Deborah’s house, trying to calm down before having to speak with her. She knew it was necessary to get Deborah on board with their master plan, but she really wished someone  _ else  _ could talk to her. Finally, she resigned herself to her fate and marched up to Deborah’s front door.

When it opened, Tiffany saw Deborah’s face transition from surprise, to confusion, then to disgust. Deborah began to close the door again when Tiffany grabbed it and held it open.

“Deb. Please. I need to talk to you,” Tiffany said forcefully.

Deborah paused, then resumed trying to shut the door.

“Please! It’s important!”

“What? After you humiliated me in front of the whole PTA? After you took the Granola Queen Crown from me? Absolutely  _ not! _ ” Deborah said with a grunt of exertion.

“Deb!” Tiffany’s last plea was cut off by the door slamming shut. She stood on her front steps, then knocked again.

“Go away!” came Deborah’s voice.

Tiffany chose to not do as Deborah requested and knocked again.

“Fuck  _ off! _ ”

Tiffany simply sat down and waited. Sadly for her, she was very uncomfortable on the cold, hard steps. Every so often, she reached up and knocked again, or called out to Deborah. She got quite a few weird looks from passersby.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Deborah opened the door again. Tiffany looked up, excited, but was quickly let down when Deborah started hitting her with a broom.

“Deborah! Please! Please please please please please please! It’s important!”

“ _ No! _ ”

It dawned on Tiffany that she was not going to get Deborah to invite her in to have a civil conversation, so she resolved to just tell her about Patty here on the steps.

Punctuated with cries of pain, Tiffany related everything they had discovered about Patty, but Deborah didn’t seem to care.

“I don’t care!” she screamed, which was confirmation of her apathy on the subject.

“Listen, if you don’t do anything, you’ll suffer too!” Tiffany tried to reason with her.

“I have nothing left to lose!” Deborah cried.

“Did you not hear me? Patty’s trying to  _ destroy  _ SnailHaven! Everyone’s going to  _ die _ if we don’t do anything!”

“Not my problem!”

“What the fuck, yes it is!!” Tiffany shouted, “Don’t you  _ care  _ if you die?”

“NO!” Deborah screamed, raising her broom high above her head.

Tiffany jumped up and caught the handle. Deborah fell to the floor, sobbing. Tiffany stood over her for a moment, then tried to carry her into the house, but settled for dragging her. Deborah lay on the floor, weeping openly.

“Deborah,” Tiffany said quietly, “If Patty succeeds, there’ll be nothing left. You can redeem yourself in front of the PTA. You can get the crown back. But if you let her do this, then you  _ will  _ die with nothing. Do you want that to happen?”

Deborah said nothing. She just continued to cry.

“We  _ need _ you. Please. You can help us stop Patty. And everyone will know that you played a part. The PTA will commend you for how you took her down when the rest of the town was clueless.”

Tiffany waited for Deborah’s tears to die down.

“Deb? Please, help us.”

Deborah finally sat up, hiccupping. She wiped her eyes. “Fine.”

Tiffany inhaled sharply. “Really? Great! I-”

She held up an eye. “But. If I’m going to do this, I want you to promise to  _ never  _ enter the cook-off again.”

Easy. Tiffany didn’t even care about the crown. She had just wanted to make Deborah feel bad. Apparently, it had worked better than Tiffany had expected. 

“Of course. I promise.”

“Good.” Deborah pulled herself up and dropped back down on the sofa, trying to regain some composure.

Tiffany took a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you. Now, let me explain.”


	22. Tiffany and the Beginning of the End

After weeks of scheming and preparing, it was finally time to set their plan into action. Tiffany couldn’t help but feel nervous, but she had to trust in Susan’s plan.

She pulled herself out of bed and splashed some cold water on her face. She was exhausted. But, soon it would be all over, and everything would be worth it. She trudged downstairs and ate a healthy breakfast of sour cherry granola and fruit. She would need a substantial amount of energy to get through the day.

This afternoon was the biweekly PTA meeting, and after missing the last one, Tiffany and Deborah would both be in attendance. 

Tiffany walked in the door, reminding herself to act naturally. Patty didn’t know that Tiffany knew she was evil. But also, Tiffany hated Patty _before_ that had come to light, so she wasn’t sure how hostile to act. Maybe the best thing to do would be to simply not talk to her. Tiffany moved to the opposite side of the room as Patty, but was surprised at how much effort it took to not glare menacingly at her. 

She saw Deborah enter, and glared at her. Deborah pointedly looked away and moved toward some other snails. They had to act as if they still had a burning hatred for each other.

Tiffany socialized with the snails around her until it was time to start the meeting. That, at least, wasn’t difficult. The topic of conversation was their children, and Tiffany had plenty to say about her children.

Eventually, they were led to the meeting room and took their seats around the table. Patty stood up to begin the meeting, as always. She laid out the agenda and then the snails began debating the first issue.

Tiffany waited a few minutes while the snails discussed what should be done about the increasing number of playground injuries, then interrupted.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” She stood up. “This is a little unrelated, but I was just wondering… what does PTA stand for?”

Everyone looked at her strangely.

“No one knows what PTA stands for? Really?

“Um,” said one snail meekly, “Parent-Teacher Association?”

“That’s right,” Tiffany affirmed, “ _Parent-Teacher_ Association. So I would assume that means it is an association made of parents and teachers of the students at SnailHaven Elementary. Am I correct in thinking that?”

Everyone just looked at her, blinking.

“I’m going to assume I’m correct in that assumption. So tell me, would it make sense to have someone who is neither a parent nor a teacher be on the PTA?”

“Tiffany, where are you going with this?” said one annoyed snail.

“Bear with me. Ms. Patty Dawson. Are you a teacher at SnailHaven Elementary?”

“Sorry?” asked Patty.

“Please, answer the question.”

“No, I’m not a teacher.”

“Staff member? Substitute teacher? _Janitor?_ ”

“No, none of those.”

“I see,” mused Tiffany. “Then, do you have children who are currently attending SnailHaven Elementary?”

“No? Tiffany, I’m a little confused. We’re talking about playground injuries. Why did you bring this up?”

“Your Honor, as you can see, Patty has no connections to SnailHaven Elementary, and it is therefore completely inappropriate for her to be on, let alone lead, the Parent-Teacher Association of SnailHaven Elementary.”

Everyone sat silently for a minute until Deborah piped up. “You know, I hate to agree with Tiff, but that’s true. Patty, why are you on the PTA?”

Everyone looked at Patty quizzically.

“Well, as you see, I _used_ to have a child here. However, after he graduated, I was asked to stay on the PTA.”

“I see,” continued Tiffany, “But as far as I’m aware, you’re not even married, and I have never heard of your child. Do you have a husband? What is your child’s name?”

“My child is now a college student attending the University of SnailSanctuary San Snailigo. My husband, sadly, passed many years ago.”

“Really? And what was your child’s name? Could I find him in the yearbook?”

“Yes, I’m sure you could. His name is George Dawson. Graduating year 1989.”

“Your child graduated more than two decades ago, yet you are still a member of the PTA? Something doesn’t add up.”

“I’m sorry, Tiffany, but it seems to me that no one else has a problem with this.” Patty shrugged.

“It is a _bit_ fishy,” Deborah noted. Murmurs of assent came from the rest of the snails.

“Well, if this really is that big of a problem, we can sort it out later. For now, playground injuries,” Patty declared.

Deborah looked over questioningly at Tiffany, but Tiffany shook her head. They didn’t need to push any more. Patty might do something unexpected. They just needed to slowly build distrust against her, and this was a good start.

∾

Tiffany went home after the PTA meeting, feeling quite accomplished and ready to crash. As soon as she opened the door, however, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to do that. Johnny and Jonah were tearing around the house and generally making a mess. Jay had evidently reached his limit. He was sleeping on the couch, unconcerned about the chaos around him.

She heard footsteps and saw Josh thundering down the stairs. “Mom, where did you go? I need the keys!” He shouted.

“What? Why?” she said as he grabbed them and ran out the door.

“I told Sophie I’d pick her up ten minutes ago!”

“What? _Who’s Sophie?_ ” she called, beginning to be concerned.

“My girlfriend!” Josh yelled as he got into the car and drove away.

“ _WHAT?_ ”

Unfortunately, Tiffany didn’t have enough time to process this earth-shattering information, as she heard more thundering. Jake bounded down the steps recklessly. “Momma!! Can Neil come over today?”

Tiffany looked at him incredulously. “No! The house is a mess!”

“Then can I go to his house?”

“What? Fine, but he has to come pick you up.”

Jake leapt back up the stairs and into his room. Tiffany turned to her youngest kids. “ _J_ _ohnny! Jonah!_ Come here!”

They slowly and meanderingly made their way to Tiffany, laughing and poking and screeching.

“ _What_ do you think you’re doing?!”

“Uhm,” Johnny giggled, fidgeting, “Playing?”

“And _why_ is the house such a mess?” she pointed to a ketchup stain on the wall. “I assume this was you two?”

“No!” said Jonah. “That was Jason! He wanted a snack.”

“ _So why is ketchup on the wall when the kitchen is over there?!”_ Tiffany screamed.

“Uh-uhuh,” Johnny shrugged.

“Outside! Play _outside!_ ” she shepherded them out the door and stormed into the kitchen.

She did a double take as she passed the office. She whipped around and ran inside.

“ _Joseph!_ ” she exclaimed, “What are you looking at!?”

Joseph jumped in the computer seat. “Uh…”

Tiffany just shook her head. “Whatever. Just clear the fucking search history and go to your room.”

She entered the kitchen to find about half the contents of the fridge on the counter. Jason sat at the table, eating a sandwich.

“Jason! Did you make this mess?”

“Yeah. Imma clean it up, though!” he said.

“You’d _better,_ otherwise there’s going to be a big consequence!”

Jason’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly. Jesus! He was nine and couldn’t make a sandwich without destroying half the house.

And so began the marathon of cleaning up her house. She guessed that’s what she got for being gone for so long, but she didn’t expect Jay to collapse so soon. After she had cleaned up downstairs, she reclined in an armchair. She didn’t even want to see what the upstairs looks like. She sighed and fell asleep.


	23. Sharon and the Return of the Philanthropist

Sharon sat back contentedly as she viewed her computer screen, which was displaying the latest data from A SHARONless World’s records. Thanks to Gavin, Sharon once again had full access to everything on the SHARONless World mainframe. Her plan was working splendidly. The percentage cure rate had dropped from one hundred percent to ninety-two percent over the last month. It didn’t seem like a substantial amount, but considering the number of snails A SHARONless World had treated overall, it was actually quite significant.

Sharon clicked the mousepad to look at another graph. The charity had managed to de-SHARON-ize only thirty-three percent of snails in the past month. The yogis had done an amazing job, better than Sharon could ever have expected.

Yesterday, Tiffany had gone to the PTA meeting with Deborah to make Patty slightly more suspicious. Today, Sharon would confront her, and the entirety of SnailHaven, about her charity.

She closed her laptop and stretched. It was time to go. She got in her car, and on the way, the reality of what was happening struck her. Soon, so soon, she would have A SHARONless World back, and Patty would be defeated. She lost herself in daydreams of what it would be like once she had it back. The first thing she would do, she resolved, was to hold a huge charity ball. This time, though, it wouldn’t be limited to just socialites and aristocrats, _everyone_ would be there. It would be a wonderful celebration.

As she pulled into a parking space, she was filled with a sense of calm. She didn’t feel nervous at all-- there was no need. She had nothing to fear from Patty. She knew what she was capable of, and they were going to stop her.

She marched right up to the front door and flung it open. She strode in, full of authority. Pamela, looked up, startled.

“Hello, Pamela,” Sharon said in a powerful voice. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a meeting going on right now. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Pamela answered, “But even if there wasn’t a meeting, you couldn’t speak with Gavin anyway.”

“Oh, no, it’s not Gavin I want to speak to,” Sharon said dismissively, strutting past the reception desk. She stood with one eye on the door to the meeting room. “It’s the whole damn world.”

She pushed the door open. All conversation within immediately stopped as everyone turned to stare at her.

“Hello, everyone. I’m sure it’s a bit of a surprise to see me here, but let me go ahead and make a quick assumption. One of the topics of discussion today is the quickly falling rates for A SHARONless World. And I’ll bet all of you are perfectly willing to delude yourselves and to come up with nonsensical reasons for why this is happening. Allow me to say out loud the thing you all know is true.”

She moved around the edge of the table. “I wonder, when did A SHARONless World start failing so miserably? If I recall, it was right around… ah yes, it was right when Gavin took over as executive director and president. Please, tell me, what excuse can you offer that is more plausible than the reason that Gavin is completely incompetent?”

Finally, Patty stood up. “Sharon, there are many factors that led to the decline in our treatment’s efficacy, and yes, the transfer of power is a contributor, but I assure you, rates will be rising soon again.”

“I don’t really think so, Patty. Now, I’m here to demand that Gavin step down and for me to resume the position of executive director and president. Considering the recent shortcomings of this charity, I think such measures are not unwarranted.”

“Sharon, that’s an incredibly drastic measure to take so soon. And that’s a frivolous suggestion! You can’t just march in here and demand a leadership position.”

“Mm, well, you see, I’m not quite alone. Quite a few dissatisfied SHARONs have come to me, along with some others.”  
Patty opened her mouth to speak, then tilted her head. Sharon smiled. The sound of dozens of voices could just be made out. As they listened, the cries grew louder and louder. Eventually, the curiosity got the better of a few of the snails in the room and they stepped out to see what was happening. Out in the middle of Main Street, a very vocal throng of snails protested mightily. They were all chanting in unison, “Save our SHARONs! Bring back Sharon! Save our SHARONs! Bring back Sharon!”

There were multitudes of signs, reading “Gavin must go!” or “Sharon helps the SHARONs!” among others.

It was an amazing protest. With all their powers combined, the girls managed to organize an event that might be able to influence change.

Patty was the last of the snails to walk out of the meeting room and get a look at the protest.

“So, Patty, as you can see, there are quite a few snails who feel as I do.”

Patty said nothing. She simply walked back into the meeting room. Sharon didn’t follow. Instead, she walked out to join the mass of snails.

The protest lasted for hours, and only disbanded once the sun began to set. Sharon was exhausted, but she was happy. She was experiencing the feeling of pure accomplishment. However, she couldn’t rest just yet. Patty was still out there, and still fully capable of causing harm.

∾

Sharon drove back to Susan’s yurt to meet up with the rest of the girls. They were already all gathered around the TV. Barbara beckoned for Sharon to sit next to her. She was glad to sit on a comfortable chair. Her tail was aching from standing and marching all day.

The TV was displaying a news reporter discussing the protest that had been staged that day. “...It seems it was successful,” the reporter said, “As Gavin Steel has stepped down and agreed to allow Sharon to take his position.”

At this, the girls all cheered, except for Susan, who was impassive as always.

“Mr. Steel is actually here with us tonight. Mr. Steel, you said you had something important to share?” the reporter proffered the microphone to Gavin.

“Yes,” he said, leaning in. “First off, I’d like to apologize to all the SHARONs that could have received help but didn’t because of all this. I’d also like to suggest that A SHARONless World be no longer connected with the Community Board.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Well, most of the actions I took were passed to me from Ms. Patty Dawson herself. While Patty may be a capable Board President, I think it would be the best for her to keep doing what she has experience with.”

“I see. So, in summary, the fall of a SHARONless World is due to Ms. Dawson?”

“I guess you could put it that way, yes.”

Sharon stopped listening. That was all she needed to hear. Patty was now further discredited. She was about to get up to leave when something the news reporter said caught her attention.

“Mr. Steel claims that Patty should stick with what she knows, but it seems she’s already heading out to broaden her horizons. She has just announced that she is now in the running for the head of the SnailHaven Agriculture Commission. Patty declined to comment further.”

“What?” said Barbara. “Why’s she doing that?”

“Don’t worry,” responded Susan. “This is good news.”

“What? Why?” Tiffany asked.

“I can only assume she’s running to have power over _plants_ so that she can starve SnailHaven to death,” Susan answered.

" _What?_ Why is that a _good_ thing?” Heather said.

“Because it’s going to take a long time. It also means that Patty’s scared,” Susan explained.

“Susan, you can’t just say that and not tell us why,” Sharon pointed out.

“This is not a great time for her to announce that. Right after the fall of A SHARONless World? She’s having to rush her plans. She realizes that we might beat her first. And we will,” elaborated Susan.

Susan seemed confident that they would be able to defeat Patty, which was definitely reassuring to Sharon.

She stood up. “Alright. I’ve got to go home. I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open. I’d better go now so I don’t fall asleep in the car.”

Tired as she was, she couldn’t stop a huge grin from spreading across her face. Once again, she was in charge of A SHARONless World, as she should be.


	24. Susan and the Middle of the End

Susan sat in the crowded town hall, waiting for the meeting to begin. The snails around her engaged in mindless conversation, unaware of the greater events transpiring around them. The pair of snails behind her were having a very loud conversation about recent TV shows, and their voices were so painfully  _ annoying _ Susan thought she might scream.

Not a moment too soon, Patty and a few other members of the Board walked out and took seats on the panel, including Inga. The crowd slowly quieted.

“Hello, everyone,” Patty spoke into her microphone, “Thank you all for coming today, it really shows how much you care about our community. There’s not much to address up front, so we can move right into questions from citizens.”

A line formed behind a microphone set up by the seats. Susan got up and joined the queue. There were almost a dozen snails in front of her.

The first one started off with, “I know this is an issue the PTA is already dealing with, but the number of injuries occurring on the elementary school playground keeps growing. Has the board or the PTA come to any decision about what needs to be done?”

Patty answered this one, “Yes, the PTA is busy putting new regulations in place to keep the children safe. We all realize how pressing this issue is, and both the PTA and the Board have made it their first concern.”

“Would it be possible to share some of these new policies?” the snail followed up.

“We can share the ones we have already decided to put into place. One, children must wear shoes at all times on the playground. Two, any movement faster than one mile per hour is prohibited. Three, there is a maximum of three snails on any piece of equipment at one time. Those are all the regulations that are certain to be put into place.”

“Thank you,” the snail said, then got out of line. A few others that were in the line got out as well.

The next snail approached. “I’ve noticed a recent increase in pesticides being applied on our homes. In fact, a few snails have gotten ill from these pesticides. Is there anything that can reduce how much is applied, or at least reduce the effects of these poisons?”

“Allison, why don’t you answer this one,” Patty prompted, gesturing to another Board member.

“Sure,” Allison responded. “Sadly, at this time, we don’t have the resources to launch an attack on the pesticide applicators, but our healthcare officials have suggested that we construct pesticide redirectors and provide pesticide poisoning treatment. The treatment is available to all snails, and construction of redirectors has begun. Unfortunately, because of the playground problem and a lack of funds, construction is halted.”

These snails were taking forever. She just wanted to get up there and do her bit. While she was waiting, she looked up at Patty’s smug face. She knew that Patty was enjoying this immensely. Susan rolled her eyes. If she were in Patty’s place, she would want everyone to  _ know _ it. But Patty wanted to revel in their pain.

Susan finally reached the front of the line.

“Susan!” Patty smiled. “I’m glad to see that you’re getting involved with the Community Board again. It really is a shame that you aren’t president anymore, but it’s nice that you’re still contributing.”

“Oh, of course!” Susan responded, “You know, I’m here because I kinda felt that the Board  _ needed _ my talents after it’s performance these past few weeks. But enough about that. I’ve just got one question.”

Patty nodded, indicating that Susan should go ahead.

Susan looked straight into Patty’s eyes. “I just happened to notice that you recently purchased a personal jet. Now normally, that would be none of my business, but in this particular instance, it does. I just wondered where the funds came from.”

Patty looked confused. Or, more likely, pretended to look confused. Patty undoubtedly knew what Susan was up to at this moment. By now, she definitely knew that the girls were working together to stop her. However, Susan did wonder if some of that confusion was genuine. As far as Patty knew, Susan didn’t have anything to gain from this.

“Well, Susan, for starters, that’s not even true. Second of all, it is completely unrelated to our meeting and the community.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that it has  _ everything  _ to do with the community.” Susan smiled slightly. “I don’t think you answered my question, Patty.”

“I don’t need to answer your question, because it is untrue that I bought a new private jet.”

“Patty, please. Would you like me to prove it?”

Susan didn’t wait for a response. She pulled out a small pile of papers from her purse. “Now, it just so happens that a good friend of mine works at New Snail Jet Plane Services, and kindly alerted me to this transaction.”

She approached the panel and slammed the papers down in front of Patty. “Explain these.”

“Susan,” said Patty, rolling her eyes, “These were obviously fabricated. I’ll have to ask you to-”

“Hmm…  _ you, _ ” Susan called, pointing at Inga. “You’re the treasurer, right? Would you know about this stuff?”

“Well…” Inga said quietly, “Yes, I would.”

“Come here. Look at these papers and tell me whether or not they’re legit.”

Inga turned to look at Patty. Surprisingly, she was quite the actress. Patty rolled her eyes and beckoned her over. Inga took the papers from Susan and took a substantial amount of time looking over them. She looked at the papers, then at Susan, at Patty, and then back at the papers.

“I don’t… I’m not sure,” she finally said. Susan barely managed to hide a smile. The rest of the girls would need acting lessons from Inga.

“Sure you do,” Susan said, then leaned over menacingly. “Are they legit or not?!?”

Inga’s eyes grew wide. “Yes! Yes, they are,” she squeaked.

Susan turned back to Patty. “And there you have it. You  _ did _ purchase a jet, and what’s more, you lied about it.”

Patty was silent.

“And back to my original question. Where did the funds come from?” Susan turned back to the audience. “No doubt this is only one among many such purchases. Extravagant, unnecessary,  _ selfish _ . Extraordinarily selfish, that is, because this sudden influx of money for Patty Dawson comes at the expense of the Community Board, and by extension, SnailHaven as a whole. Patty has been embezzling money from the Board.”

Susan turned back to Inga. “I’m sure that you could find proof of this.”

Inga looked horrified.

“Or…” Susan continued, raising an eyebrow, “Have you already found proof?”

Inga didn’t say anything.

“Honey,” Susan said, then cut herself off to look at her nametag. “Inga. If you have proof of Patty’s crimes, then you  _ need _ to let us know.”

After another pause, Inga cried, “It’s true! We allotted 2.5 million dollars for the construction of pesticide redirectors and defense mechanisms, but less than half a million was actually put towards it! Also, we set aside one hundred thousand dollars for playground renovations, but less than one thousand was actually spent on playgrounds! The rest was never used at all!”

“Well, now we know what they  _ were _ used for,” said Susan, glaring at Patty.

Patty opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Susan winked.

“Thank you for answering my question,” Susan said, then swept out of the room, leaving the stunned snails behind.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read the whole thing - wow, thank you for sitting through however many pages of snails bitching at each other! Hope you enjoyed what was basically an extended shitpost.


End file.
